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11
KAYLA
Walkingdownthestreet of Atlanta, I enjoy the February sun warming my face. Our daily car rides to the office have been a good way to start my day, but he told me this weekend that I will have to find my own way to work every Wednesday morning, so now I’m marching through the city at a comfortable pace. I’m not a natural walker, but I’m appreciating the twenty-minutes to wake up and take in the city while I think about what Bodi could possibly be doing at this hour.
He’s been really cryptic about it and my curiosity is killing me, making it my mission to find out what it is. It’s clearly not work-related or it wouldn’t be a secret and I’ve wondered if he was an alcoholic out loud, but I took his silent scowl as a no. Right now, I’m torn between yoga and fight club, but that could also be the fact that I like to imagine him all sweaty with messy hair.
Head. Gutter. Out.
Or maybe there is some special edition sneaker launch, and he wants to be first in the queue, because let me tell you something; the man is obsessed with sneakers. He won’t let me peek into his closet, mumbling something about me not allowed in his bedroom when I asked, but so far he’s been wearing a different set of shoes every single day. The memory puts a smile on my cheeks, thinking about how I seem to tick him off. My daily flirts are starting to make him go crazy, fueling my motivation. He rarely replies, just growls, but he always answers them with an undeniably amused look and, well, it’s too fun to stop. He can pretend our chemistry died over the winter, but I’m not going to pretend I don’t feel just as excited about him as I did when we met last summer.
I want him.
Badly.
I can feel my phone buzz in my pocket and I pick up, my eyes flashing over the screen.
“Morning, cous.”
“So,” Rae starts with a giddy voice, “is it amazing?”
“Are we talking about Bodi’s dick or the job?”
“Jesus, Keeks. You already slept with him?”
“No.” I laugh, pleased she’s falling for my trap until I realize what she’s saying. “What do you mean already? You don’t think I can keep it professional?”
I roll my eyes at my own comment, because we all know I won’t if it would be up to me.
“Oh, please. You wanna tell me you haven’t tried to get into his pants yet?”
“I haven’t!” I screech, a little offended.
“You haven’t flirted with him?” Her tone reveals her disbelief, and I can’t help the playful grin tugging at the corner of my lip.
“Puh-lease!” I pause. “Every fucking day. The man is too responsible for his own good.”
Her laughter reverberates through the phone. “You’re torturing him, aren’t you?”
”As much as I can. I mean, I get we can’t go bunny hopping on his desk, but I’m freaking staying in his guestroom. I don’t see why we can’t get it on in my bed. He can even strut out of there when it’s time for bed for all I care.”
“You’re awful, Kayla. He’s your boss.”
“I know!”
“Not to mention, you’re nineteen.”
“So? That wasn’t an issue last summer.”
“I don’t think he wants his employees to find out he has had an affair with his nineteen-year-old assistant.” Well, if she’s going to put it like that. “Besides, you’re here for the job. What if you and Bodi cross that line and it doesn’t end well. I get why he’s hesitant.”
“I know,” I concede. “It’s just fun fucking with his head.” It’s something that comes natural to me, my mouth blurting out things to grow closer to him. Physically, but also mentally.
I walk into the office building, heading straight for the elevator.
“Anyway,” she drawls, telling me she needs something. “Now that you got your finger in the honeypot... I was wondering if you could do something for me?”
“Finger in the honeypot? Is that a real expression?” I scrunch my nose until my dirty mind moves a step up. “Although, it sounds sexy? Have you ever tried it with Jensen? Oh no, stop. Don’t answer that.”
“For fuck’s sake, Keeks. Get your head out of the gutter.”
I push the elevator button, hissing, “That would be an option if your friend would give me some.”
“My friend is your boss!”
“Don’t remind me. What do you want?”
“I need you to read Charlotte’s book.”
My brows fold together. “Charlotte? Charlotte who?” The words fall from my tongue and at the same moment, I realize who she’s talking about. “You mean Charlotte Hansen?” I ask, referring to the wife of MMA champion Hunter Hansen, one of Jensen’s friends. We’ve met a few times, the last time being over Thanksgiving. Or Friendsgiving,how Rae called it. “No. I like Charlotte. What if I hate her book? You read it.”
“I have read it. It’s really good. But I’m not an editor.”
“Err, newsflash? Neither am I.” The doors open, and I get on the elevator, pressing the button to the top floor.
“You have studied English lit.”
“Ehmm, I’m sorry? Did you forget the part where I dropped out of Stanford? We all know how that worked out.”
“Dropped out? I thought you failed?”
Fuck.
“Same thing. Either way, I’m not qualified. I’m just a PA. Besides, isn’t Bodi a friend of Hunter’s as well? Why doesn’t he set up a meeting for his wife?”
“Because she wants to do it without him. She doesn’t even know I’m asking this. Please, Keeks. She doesn’t want to send it to Bodi, but I think it might be his next bestseller.”
I bite my tongue for a moment, bringing my gaze up to the ceiling. “You do realize Bodi would probably do it for you anyway?”
“But that’s the thing. I don’t want him to publish it out of pity.”
I don’t think this is a good idea, but I like Charlotte and, well, I love my cousin. Not to mention the fact I read at least a book a week.
“So what are you suggesting?”
