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His brows furrow a bit before they clash. As if he doesn’t like my name or that there’s another woman that just spoke to him.
“My office.”
And now we’re down to two words.
Two really irritated and pissed-off words.
Pivoting, he leaves a tiny waft of spicy cologne behind mixed with leather, my mother gaping at him as he strides toward the back of the establishment.
“Oh my,” she mutters. “He seems upset.”
“No friends or family while I’m working,” I say to make her feel bad. “I gotta go, Mom.”
Rising from my chair, she doesn’t bat an eyelash when she says, “Call me when you get out of work today. We need to talk?—”
“Yeah.” I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “Bye, Mom.”
I might not have a job by the time the hour is out, but at least I can get her to take a long walk off a very short pier for said time frame.
Fuck me.
two
. . .
LIV
I don’t want to be here.
I don’t want to be here.
That’s all I can think about when Hudson leans his ass against the edge of his messy desk and pins me to the door the moment I open it.
This isn’t going to end well.
As much as I would love the idea of him waiting for me in an alternate universe, this one isn’t going to filled with a raunchy conversation that will make me wet between my legs. The way Hudson’s green eyes aggressively make my body want to curl into an embarrassed ball, I just want to return to my desk and pretend none of this ever happened.
Leave it to my mother to make things even worse for me.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Stoll?”
He waits until I’ve clicked the door shut, and all the air escapes the room, leaving the small remaining bit stagnant and hot. Sweat begins to form at the back of my neck as I lift my chin, trying to appear casual and nonchalant about this whole thing. That I didn’t just call him something I’d never in a million years do if my mother wasn’t harassing the living shit out of me.
“I don’t remember askin’ you on a date,” he deadpans, crossing his bulging arms along his equally broad chest. The black shirt he’s wearing stretches over the glorious planes of his muscles, and I can’t help but try my best not to squirm. “One of the rules was no friends and family at the workplace to fuck around with.”
I stop myself from fidgeting with my fingers the moment they meet. “I know, I apologize. My mother just showed up?—”
“I don’t know what kind of weird-ass game you’re playing, but we’re not dating.”
God, I’m not sure how much more chiding I can handle for the day.
And now, I look like a psycho who just randomly cons guys into weird scenarios and act like it’s completely normal.
“I know,” I start. “But?—”
“There are no buts,” he grinds out, his tone deliciously grating as he glowers at me. “I don’t date employees. Especially ones still in high school.”
My brows clash together. “I’m not?—”
