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“He questions my work constantly. Makes me report to him in person rather than via email as I did with his predecessor. He doesn’t believe I can meet my deadlines.”
“Huh. I assumed literal Lilac wouldn’t make assumptions about a person’s thoughts.”
I glare at Aspen. “I’m not making assumptions. I’m drawing conclusions from his actions.”
She rubs her hands together. “This is going to be fun.”
What is she referring to? “What is going to be fun?”
“You’ll see,” she sings.
Aspen can’t possibly believe Beckett questioning my work and my work ethic is an indicator of his sexual interest in me. She’s obviously been reading too many of those romance books she stocks in abundance at her bookstore, Fall Into A Good Book.
She stands. “Who’s ready for karaoke at the bar?”
“I can’t. I have deadlines.” And karaoke is one of my least favorite activities. I can’t carry a tune and prefer to perform activities I’m competent at.
She rolls her eyes. “Naturally, you do.”
I expect my sisters to cajole me into joining them at Electric Vibes, the only bar in town, but they follow Aspen out of my apartment without a single word.
I trail after them to the door and shut it while contemplating what they’ve said. Are they correct? Is Beckett acting this way due to some kind of sexual tension between us? I know I’m sexually attracted to him, but is he sexually attracted to me as well?
No. It’s highly improbable. I shouldn’t let my sisters put thoughts into my mind. Especially when all of them are obsessed with sex and having babies. I’m happy they’re happy, but a relationship is not in my future. It’s not the path I’ve chosen. My career is my future.
