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Pacing up and down, I clench my fists, willing to rid myself of these thoughts.
She’s too young.
Immature, obviously, by her dig at my sex life.
And she’s Lex and Charlie’s daughter.
But the minute I stepped into that elevator, something drew me toward her. I’m used to seeing women in the building dressed in corporate wear and flashing any piece of skin they can get away with. It often ranges from younger women, interns in their twenties, to sexier, more confident women, aged yet mature in their demeanor.
Not this girl though.
She appears different.
I didn’t catch her eyes, only the supple pink lips which often sighed when she stared at her phone. There was an innocence to her, and perhaps it was that which left me curious as to why she ended up in my building.
Assuming it was an interview, I found it highly inappropriate to wear Chucks, yet admired her fashionable choice in wardrobe on this exceptionally warm fall day. Nevertheless, I’d never allow hiring someone dressed in such attire. I pride myself in recruiting a professionally presented workforce, and Chucks aren’t part of the dress code.
Then I find her in my office, and the second she spun around, those emerald-green eyes did something I can’t explain. I couldn’t breathe like I’d been punched in the chest, which has happened to me during several boxing matches. The exact feeling stays with you, almost as if you’re close to death because you can’t perform the simple act of breathing.
But there’s nothing to do but ignore it, blame all of it on Lex after he got into my head about being alone.
And the irony—his daughter is the one consuming my head.
When we sat inside my office, she struggled to make any conversation with me worth my attention, giving me too much opportunity to examine her. My memory can’t recall the last time I’d seen her, only snippets of our childhood and the way she’d taunt me with her overbearing ways.
Yet, she’s turned into a beautiful woman, one I didn’t expect to see sitting on the white leather chair across from me. Amelia’s face has changed, slimmed out with her features more defined, including her cheekbones. Her hair is shorter and a different color, offering a more mature style than the waist-length hair I remember she always had in pigtails.
But it was her quiet, rather introverted attitude, which puzzles me the most. As a child, she was a boisterous daredevil, nothing at all like her sister, the Little Miss Precious, Ava. She dared me to jump out of trees and tested me in the pool with ridiculous races she’d have us compete in. And the little girl who would demand my attention on my family trips to California had soon become the bane of my existence.
Shaking my head, I push the thoughts out of my mind and send a text to Elisha—a woman who offers a great fuck whenever I need it. Within seconds, she responds eagerly with an open invitation to her place tonight.
There. Done.
This will bring me back to reality.
As the afternoon drags on, so do my rampant thoughts. By the time everyone leaves the boardroom, I’ve abandoned Elisha’s invitation. Although I had prompted it, I decide to head over to my parents’ place, needing a good old pep talk from Dad, who’ll knock some sense into me about staying single and fucking whomever I please.
I punch the code, opening the door, and yell out to my parents.
“Will?” Mom responds, unsure, as I walk through the apartment toward the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s me, is Dad around—”
My words fall flat, stopping at the dining room as emerald-green eyes feast upon me. Fuck.
“I’m glad you’re here, come join us. Beau is visiting your grandparents,” Mom offers, opening a seat beside Amelia.
Amelia’s eyes widen until she drops her face quietly, not saying a word. Huh, interesting from Miss Keep-Your-Dick-in-Check Edwards. Curiosity overcomes me as I accept my mom’s offer and take a seat beside her. Her body almost stiffens, making this all the more fun.
“Amelia tells us that she visited you today?”
“Yes,” I say, taking a sip of the wine Mom poured, though eyeing the beer Dad has in his hand. Would it be wrong of me to ask for something stronger? Perhaps, something hard like shots of Patrón, an excellent way to rid myself of this unwarranted feeling.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Dad chuckles with his ridiculous grin. “You’re going to drive all the college boys crazy, just like your mother.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Uncle Rocky,” she answers politely.
Mom slides the dishes over to me, and almost instantly, I recognize all the food from the Chinese restaurant across the street. Mom’s hectic work schedule means she often has little time to cook. I don’t blame her as I order take-out more
