Page 7 of Fighting My Demons

"I don't need help. I already said it. If you don't like the office, ask Eli to put you in another," I tell him.

"No, I am fine here, and you do need help. Look at it. How can you work in this? " Latham says, looking at my trashed office, the bin overflowing with paper coffee cups.

"Is your house this messy?" he asks.

"God no, that means I actually would have to live in it."

Plus, at home, I can be the freak I am with my OCD. I usually avoid the office and work around everyone else or elsewhere, choosing to just come in here and leave the filing before walking back out. I prefer to work in the conference room. When I was given this office, I opened the door and didn’t know where to begin sorting it without having a meltdown. Man, if they saw my house, all they would smell is bleach. I am rarely home anyway with my workload. Mainly just to change out of my clothes. I have lost count of the times I have fallen asleep in the conference room and had to race home to get changed.

"You aren't home much?" Latham asks, grabbing a stack of files and sorting them alphabetically.

I grab the next stack, doing the same.

"No, my hours are horrendous," I admit.

"When was your last day off?" Blaine asks, sorting my desk.

It makes me nervous having them in here sorting stuff.

"Sundays, but usually I take work home with me," I tell them.

Yeah, I am that boring. The only thing I am good at is my job. I work my ass off to prove I can do this job, and I am not about to let them ruin it with their godlike looks. They are going to be a distraction.

"With our help, hopefully, you can have more time off," Blaine says.

I don't answer. I don't want time off, especially with my brother out. That would just give him more reason to force himself back into my life.

"How about you go get coffee and then come back?" Latham says.

"Do I look like a coffee bitch?" I snap at him.

How dare he dismiss me from my own office even if I rarely used it?

I hear the other two laugh at my words, and Latham raises an eyebrow at me.

"Regardless of what you look like, you need help, and I am offering it. So go get coffee. We will take care of this disaster," he says.

I shake my head. I am not being kicked out of my own office by some newcomer who thinks he can do my job better than me.

"Get it yourself," I tell him, folding my arms.

He smirks before moving quickly. I find myself pressed against the desk, piles of documents falling onto the floor.

"I can see we are going to have fun working together, Bella, but since you seem to think I am trying to shove you out of your job, I will be nice just this once by letting your attitude go, but mind your tongue around me, or I will put it to better use," he says pressing himself against me.

I can feel the bulge in the front of his pants, and he bucks his hips against me, his hands on either side of my legs on the desk trapping me. Why the heck do I find his words so arousing?

"Are we clear, Bella?"

"Crystal," I tell him, shoving him back before storming out of the room.

I hear him laugh as I throw the door open. I need air, damn it, and I need coffee.

These men were going to be the death of me.

Chapter Four

Latham