Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Well, I am, but I need to tell you why.”
Gavin moved his hand entirely and glared up at me. “If you’re gonna give me a rundown about why I’m not the type of guy you usually fuck with . . .”
“No,” I said dryly. “That is not what I intend to say. Stop assuming the worst about me. I’m not here to insult you or whatever you’re expecting. I’m just not the type of person to play games or be coy. I don’t just close my eyes and plug my ears without explaining to you why it was a mistake. We need to clear the air and set up boundaries.”
“Uh-huh.”
I sat on the edge of the lounge chair and put a tentative hand on his knee. “Seriously. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”
“You’re a regular fucking cliché, aren’t you?”
“And you’re defensively defaulting into dick mode,” I shot back. “What it comes down to is that you’re my boss. The boss I live with.”
“For four more months.”
“Yeah, but even so, I would think you’d understand why I don’t want to go through this again. I don’t want to be the guy who . . . fucks up every job because of an inability to draw boundaries at work.”
Gavin’s expression flickered and his jaw unclenched. “That was a different situation. I’m not like that douchebag, and this job is temporary.”
“I know you’re not and I know it is, but it doesn’t change the messed-up power dynamics in this situation.”
“I don’t have power over—” he paused, frowning. “Fuck, okay. I get it. But I’d be just as screwed if you abruptly bail on me. I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to owning a house or organizing my life. I need you here.”
It was the first time he’d admitted to my value as his assistant, and I couldn’t stop myself from smugly grinning. “Yeah. You do. Case in point—your mortgage was two months overdue. Please don’t be that athlete whose home goes into foreclosure despite having a nearly sixty-million-dollar salary.”
Gavin didn’t look surprised. “I never had money before, and I’ve never owned anything. I don’t know what to do with all this shit now that I have it.”
“I know. I get that.” I patted his thigh, and it flexed beneath my hand. “I’m not coming down on you. I’m just saying you need to start paying more attention or invest in a personal assistant in the long term. Paying your mortgage has nothing to do with you being under house arrest.”
Gavin grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Get back to rejecting me.”
“I’m not rejecting you. I just can’t fuck up this job because you’re a good kisser. I’ve done it before, and I’m not doing it again.”
“Okay, I get that, but be real and admit I’m a better kisser than that other guy.”
“Stop being a clown. I’m serious, Gavin. We need some boundaries.”
“So then have boundaries. I’m not stopping you.”
“We both need to stick with them. No flirting. No eyefucking—because in retrospect I now realize you’ve been doing it all along.” And boy, did it blow my mind to realize Gavin Brawley’s intense stare down had been him checking me out. Including the first time I’d stepped into Joe Carmichael’s office. “No more asking to kiss me.”
Gavin stared at me from beneath his eyelashes. “I won’t push up on you if you don’t want me to.”
Relief hit me. I’d expected him to argue. To somehow turn things around and say I was the one tempting him. Or accuse me of flirting with him and instigating the entire situation. It was the type of shit I’d gotten from guys in the past when I’d tried to end things, or slow things down.
“Good. Things will be a lot easier if we both keep our hands and eyes to ourselves.”
“If you say so.”
He was sullen, but I could deal with that. I stood and began to turn away, but his voice rang out clearly and loudly.
“But what if you ask to kiss me?”
I looked over my shoulder. “That’s not going to happen.”
Gavin had closed his eyes again. “We’ll see.”
***
The day went by too quickly. There was a lot to do before I went home for the weekend, which turned into me running around for most of the day, and I barely saw Gavin after our conversation. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for that to happen given how cavernous the empty house was, but it left me feeling unsettled.
Was he avoiding me on purpose? Was he upset by our conversation? The most frequent question in my mind was, Was he really that disappointed that we wouldn’t fool around again? It was an odd concept. I’d been operating under the assumption that Gavin was horny, and I was the nearest available warm body. But maybe not.