His jaw tightens.
Good.
“I’ve told you no.” My voice stays calm, even though every word feels like a blade. “More than once.”
I step closer instead of backing down. “You don’t get to keep chasing me and call it flirting when I’ve made myself crystal fucking clear.”
His nostrils flare.
Good.
For one long beat, neither of us moves.
Then something shifts behind his eyes and his hand slides off the door.
For all his ego, he knows exactly where the line is. And he’s over it.
I don’t wait for him to say another word.
I turn, square my shoulders, and walk out of that conference room like my pulse isn’t hammering and my hands aren’t shaking hard enough to spill my coffee.
Then, I head straight to Crystal’s room to check on her.
I can break down later.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
EMMETT
Rage and self-loathing accompany me all the way back to the loft. Halfway up the drive, the front door swings open before I even hit the porch.
A woman I recognize as one of Aspen’s friends is on the porch, a watering can at her feet as she turns the keys in the front door, looking entirely too at home going into a house that isn’t hers.
The redhead, Briar, I think, freezes when she spots me. Her mouth forms a little “O.” “You’re not Aspen.”
“And this isn’t your house.”
Her grin widens. “Oh.” She points to me with the key. “He’s spicy.”
I fold my arms over my sweat-damp T-shirt.
Yeah. I fucking am.
And with good reason.
She rolls her eyes at me like I’m being dramatic.
Cause she’s got room to judge.
“Relax, sunshine. Our girl is overworked . . .” She takes a sweeping look at me. “And underfucked, but I can’t help with that.”
I choke on the air I’m still sucking down from the walk. “What the hell is wrong with people in this town?”
She barks out a laugh, completely unbothered. “We’re a benevolent community.”
“Clearly. I’m still not sure what you’re doing here, though.”
