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I wanted to stay. Everything in me told me to stay. Experience what it would be like to get the full, unfiltered, Brawley treatment. Hard and demanding and ruthless as he took me. I wanted it—probably more than I’d ever wanted anything except to pay my damn student loans—but I couldn’t.
There was a part of me that wanted more than just a wild ride on his beautiful dick, and that part couldn’t be trusted while he was still my boss.
I showered and dressed, packing quickly, before going back downstairs. He was still where I’d left him on the sofa, except he’d pulled on his clothes again. Everything was off.
Gavin was slumped on the sofa, gaze fixed on some point out the window, and his face was expressionless. He didn’t blink as I stood in the doorway.
“Gavin.”
“What?”
“I’m leaving now. Do you need anything?”
“Nope.”
And that was that.
We did not exchange any other words before I fled the mansion for the weekend.
I spent the next two days in agony. A double-edged sword of regret skewered me—one edge wishing I’d never jumped Gavin, and the other edge feeling awful for having made it out like I’d only jumped him for the same reason so many of his fans wanted to—because of his flawless face and ripped body.
But there was nothing else I could say that wouldn’t result in complications. Or him finding out that I was starting to have feelings that had no place in a business arrangement.
I called Jasmine to plead for advice, but she was out with Marcus. Left to my own devices, I stayed in bed all weekend and waited for Monday to come.
***
Gavin avoided me all morning. When I tried to find him on the surveillance cameras, I realized he’d disabled them all.
It did not bode well.
I spent the next hour updating his social media accounts, retweeting a few nice words from fans and commenting on Sunday night’s game, because I’d become a pro at faking my football knowledge, and then went through his emails. There was nothing incredibly pressing except for one from Mel with more interview offers, none of which Gavin would have interest in.
After that, I checked his voice mail and was surprised to find a message from Max on Gavin’s business number.
“Hey. Your other phone’s been off all weekend. Just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up. I have a friend who’d be into a threesom—”
I deleted the message without listening to the rest.
Which of course led to me immediately feeling guilty. It wasn’t my place to get rid of Max’s threesome invites. It wasn’t my place to do anything but my job responsibilities as they’d been outlined. I was staff. Nothing more. Definitely not jealous of the fitness model.
At noon, Case called and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch. Since Gavin had managed to avoid me for a solid five hours, I agreed, just so I could get out of the damn house. I texted Gavin that I’d be back in an hour, and still hadn’t received a response by the time Case showed up.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I shut the door too hard and clipped my safety belt with jerky motions. “How do you know something’s wrong?”
Case guided his car off the property and through the gates. “You look tense and exhausted. You’re also not wearing khakis or a dress shirt.”
“Ha. Fair point.”
“Yeah. So what’s up?”
I didn’t want to tell him, but maybe an objective opinion would be good. Especially from someone who resented celebrities and rich folks in general. If anyone was going to be brutally honest with a reality check, it would be Case.
“I have a crush on my boss.”
Case’s gaze swung over to me.
“And at my last job, I slept with my boss.”
His gaze returned to the road.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Well,” he said dryly. “It’s clearly not a serious interest in me, so my question in that regard is solved.”
I winced. “Sorry. We’re so chummy I figured we’d just become platonic friends. Was I wrong?”
“No.” Case smirked. “But the look on your face was pretty good. Easily guilted.”
Relaxing against the seat, I poked his arm. “Not funny. I already feel shitty.”
“Just because you have a crush on Brawley? Look at the guy. Who wouldn’t lust after him?”
I wondered if he’d be taking this more seriously if he knew we’d actually had sex, but there was no way I was going into that much detail. I’d confided in Jasmine about the kiss because I could trust her with my life, but I still barely knew Case.
“I feel shitty because this is becoming a trend. I don’t just have a crush on him. I have feelings for him.” A sneaked glance at him showed a face that was more thoughtful than judgmental. “Somehow, in the past two months, I’ve started thinking about him even when I’m not here. Wondering what he’s doing, wondering how I can help him, wishing he wasn’t so lonely and dependent on a sport that will ruin his body.”
