Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
“I felt queasy.” My jaw ticks. “I needed some air.”
Sal squares up to me, getting his face up in mine. It’s a stupid move, not only because he’s a whole foot shorter than me. “Fuck you, Tyler. You’ve gone from being a semi-prick to a full-blown professional cunt.”
What the fuck? I snap, grabbing Sal by the lapels of his jacket and slamming him into the wall. “What the fuck’s got into you?” I growl, infuriated that he’s done this, and so publicly. This is not how we do things around here.
“Stop it.” Gina appears, muscling her way between us. “Just stop it, you pair of kids.”
I let her pull me away, keeping my pissed-off stare on Sal as he straightens out his jacket. “He lost me the deal,” he snaps. “He lost me the fucking deal. He’s a prick who thinks with his fucking cock! I’m better off without him.”
Oh, you’ve gone too far, Walker. My blood boils over, weeks’ worth of stress ready to pour out of me. I fly at him again, seeing red. The whole team was there. He wasn’t confident going in and wanted to use me to seduce. This isn’t on me. “You fucker,” I roar, delivering a right hook to his jaw.
The sound is piercing, and Sal staggers back, his hand immediately over his face. “Fuck, Ty,” he chokes.
“Tyler,” Gina screams, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. “For God’s sake, stop it, the pair of you.”
My breathing is shot as I shake off the pain in my fist. “Talk to me when you want to be reasonable,” I shout, stalking off, leaving Gina to sort out Sal’s bloody nose.
I weave the corridor with purpose, appreciating the importance of removing myself from the situation before it gets any worse. Although I’m not sure it could be worse. We’ve had our disagreements over time, even wrestled a bit on the floor when things have gone too far, but never have either of us thrown a punch, especially not in the office. I’ve let the side down. I feel like fucking shit. “Fuck,” I curse, rounding a corner.
I falter in my steps when I see Lainey coming toward me, but whereas she slows to a stop, watching me, worried, I ignore her and keep going.
“Ty,” she calls, turning her body on the spot as I pass. Just keep going.
I arrive at the kitchen and snatch a towel from the shelf, and then go to the freezer to get some ice. Wrapping up the square of material around the cubes, I rest my makeshift ice pack across the top of my hand and rest my arse against the worktop on a deep sigh. What a shitter of a day this has turned out to be. It started out fine. Great, in fact. And then . . . I groan, my chin dropping. Lainey. Lainey, Lainey, Lainey. What is this fucking madness I’m in?
A cough at the door draws my attention, and I see the beautiful woman in question has followed me into the kitchen. “I think it’s best you go,” I say bluntly, maneuvering the ice pack on my knuckles and shifting my attention to my flexing hand.
“We both know it’s best,” she says quietly. “It’s a shame that what’s best isn’t always the easiest thing to do.” Her heels get louder, and I glance up to see her getting nearer. I start to shake my head, tensing a little with the knowledge that if she touches me, I’m going to be back at square one. Or am I already there?
She tentatively reaches for my injured hand, her touch hovering a few millimeters away for a brief moment, waiting for me to retract. Probably stupidly, I don’t. She picks up my hand, and my eyes close. She’s standing so close. Touching me.
“This is a bad idea,” I say out loud, only intending on thinking it.
“Your assistant is tending to Sal’s bloody nose. Why can’t I tend to your sore hand?”
“You know why, Lainey.” I keep my eyes closed, feeling safer in my darkness.
“Because of this?” she asks, prompting me to open my eyes to see what she’s referring to. I only get a glimpse of her eyes before her lips are on mine. I pull in a breath, forcing myself back before I get sucked in again.
“Stop,” I order, turning my head away. “Enough, Lainey. Enough of the cat-and-mouse games.”
She moves in close, our fronts virtually touching. “I’m not playing a game.”
“Yeah, you are,” I say. “And only you know the fucking rules.” I engage my muscles and go to move away, but her hands come up quickly, resting on my shoulders, stopping me. She’s not physically preventing me from escaping. It’s simply the contact, our connection, that renders me incapable of moving. “What’s up, Lainey? Didn’t you like seeing me with Jenna? Is that it? Jealous?”