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Shit. Shit. Shit.
I am waaaaayyyyy too drunk to talk to him.
“Guys, I need to step outside. It’s Rob. I’ll be back,” I mutter, glancing around the table, Graham’s honey flecked eyes locking on mine.
I tear my gaze from his and walk out of the bar onto the sidewalk, assaulted by the cold night air. My finger swipes across the screen, answering Rob’s call.
“Hi!” I say cheerfully, or what I hope is at least cheerful, probably just overenthusiastic.
“Hi Emery, I’m sorry to call you this late, but I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be out of the office this week. Something’s come up and I need you to do me a favor.”
He’s calling me for favors now?
“Can you go over the contract for the Arrow case? I feel like something is off, and I want to take another thorough look at it before we go to the deposition.”
“Yes, of course,” I say quickly. “That’s no problem.”
I hear shuffling in the background, and a car door slam. “Thanks, I’m headed out now, but if you find anything incorrect in the contract then make those adjustments and email it over to me, and make sure to CC Nate on them.”
Nate is another senior partner in the firm that I avoid at all costs because he’s intimidating as fuck.
“Got it,” I squeak.
“Thanks Emery. Have a great night.”
“You too, sir.”
I end the call and expel the breath I was holding, my lungs sucking in fresh air as I groan.
That contract is easily eighty pages long.
I guess I’ll be working till ten p.m. tomorrow. Speaking of the time, I glance down at my phone and see that it’s close to midnight. Shit.
“Kinda cold out here, huh, Davidson?”
His voice startles me, but I show no reaction. I look up and see Graham standing a few feet away, leaning against the brick side of the bar.
“Obviously so, Adams. Having trouble reading the forecast?” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest.
His grin hits me directly in the gut, causing my stomach to swirl and tighten. His teeth are white and straight, and his smile, well…they call him 'Sunshine’ for a reason. He pushes back off the wall and steps closer, causing my heart to go haywire.
No, no.
No.
This is the worst idea.
Actually, no. It’s not an idea at all. I’m just drunk, and… horny. And thinking thoughts I really should not be.
Jesus, why are his muscles so… thick and so…ugh.
“What’s that look for?” he asks, coming to a halt directly in front of me, so close our breath mingles between us. I can nearly taste the whiskey on his breath.
I swallow thickly, wishing my brain wasn’t so fuzzy from the alcohol, and the fact that he smells so good. Delicious. All man, cedar and spice.
Stop it, Emery. Graham Adams is the very last thing, literally on the planet, that you should be attracted to.Tequila shots or not.
“Oh, just me wishing that you’d suddenly disappear back through that door you came in.” I clench my teeth, taking a step back, putting distance between us.
