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And flaunted those big tits for me.
Fucking Christ.
I dragged my hand across my jaw, once again fighting the urge to replay that memory of how she got all cute with me last night, hitting me with that tender, wide-eyed look she used to get when she asked me questions about what it was like living alone, or when she needed me to help explain something on her homework. It would’ve been sweet—would’ve taken me back if it weren’t for the fact that she’d worn that look last night while arching her back taut for me, and daring me to look at her breasts.
Yeah…
Pride was far from my mind last night, because what Holland made me feel instead was twisted, fucked up and deviant. Whatever she had made me feel was everything I’d been trying hard to forget this morning.
And as far as I was concerned, I’d been well on my way till this idiot came along.
“Well, hey.” Watt had a sleazy smile on his face as he turned to me again. “If you’re not trying to fuck that girl, then you don’t mind if I go and see her tonight, right?” he asked, sticking his tongue out as he wiggled his eyebrows. “‘Cause, uh, wifey’s out to town and I think I need to find out what our lil’ blonde friend looks like ass naked on my kitchen counter.”
Fire blazed in my veins, but I offered a smirk and hid my disgust with ease.
“Go for it,” I said.
But only because I knew he wasn’t going to see Holland tonight.
I’d gone out of my way to make sure that he couldn’t.
And though I’d told myself it had entirely to do with work—with the fact that I didn’t want her distracting me or my clients while I was trying to have meetings—I could admit to myself now that I wasn’t being business-minded when I had Holland fired, or even brotherly and protective.
I was being territorial. Possessive.
I didn’t want a single thing to do with her myself, but I didn’t want anyone else looking at her either. Client or not, the idea of other men eye-fucking Holland as she bent over in her that microscopic goddamned skirt made me want to punch a hole in the wall. I hated the idea of it, and the idea of her being predictably in the same spot every weekend, wearing that skintight dress and obliviously attracting any and every psycho stalker in the city, because twenty-two or not, she was young for her age. She had a late start in life thanks to her piece of work mother, and that much was a fact.
Which was why I didn’t regret pulling the move that I did.
Calling her employer. Getting her fired.
I knew how much my business was valued where she worked, and my pull there had it so that a mere call from my assistant was enough to cost Holland her job.
The one she said she
needed for the bed I had delivered to her apartment this evening.
Technically a gift, but I knew it made me an asshole. A bit of a cold-blooded prick. But I was already both of those things on a day-to-day basis, and at least now I was a prick who wouldn’t have to think about Holland for much longer, because for Christ's sake, I couldn’t afford to.
Aside from the fact that work was my number one priority in this world, she was too young for me. Too sweet and naive, and I wasn’t making assumptions—I knew it, because I knew her. Her life. Her family.
I knew Holland Maxwell, and no matter how old she was, she’d always be that sweet girl who’d looked up to me. Who had relied on me, and put her trust in me. That was my memory of her.
And whatever memory she had of me, it was going to stay that way too.
“You out?” Drew asked once he saw me grab my jacket off the squat rack I’d hung it on.
I nodded, draping the jacket over my arm and eyeing my watch. “Gotta make a few calls to take care of the bullshit you just sprang on me, and hopefully that’s done before my meeting at four.”
Drew simply nodded as he looked at me, unsettling me with the quiet that ensued.
Because normally, he’d be cracking a joke right now about how I had to work on my time management skills, since that was generally his favorite thing to do when he unexpectedly fucked up my schedule with one of his surprise diva episodes. But for once, he was keeping his mouth shut, sparing me of his additional bullshit.
And I knew it was because he’d noticed.
Unlike Watt, Drew knew me, and he knew that something was entirely off right now. Enough so that he was actually confused, opting to just observe me. Give himself time to draw conclusions about what the hell was going on.
The silence was most definitely a first from him and in some ways, I should’ve been grateful for it. But instead it bothered me all the way back to the office, because it was one thing to lose focus, but it was a whole other to do it visibly.
