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Or a really hot man taking care of his woman.
Not that I was his woman. I wasn’t. Not at all.
But my panties had gotten wet from it. From the way Jemma fanned herself all afternoon, I was sure hers had too, but I didn’t want to think about that. In fact, I didn’t want any other woman thinking Maverick was hot.
Because I sure as hell did. There wasn’t a thing about Maverick James that I didn’t find attractive. None of it was diminished by him in a pink t-shirt either.
Was I any better than Jason, ogling and thinking naughty thoughts about a coworker? One who’d been nothing but kind to me? He’d read the email I’d mistakenly sent him and question my integrity. Perhaps even assume I was like Jason who sexually harassed people.
God, what if he thought I’d led Jason on? That his inappropriate words weren’t one sided?
It could be like MIT all over again. My professor had seduced me into his bed so he could take my theoretical math research and use it in a professional paper of his own, only discovering this after I submitted my thesis for review and been accused of plagiarizing. That had been bad.
My stomach lurched and so much adrenaline was pumping through my bloodstream that my fingers tingled.
I grabbed Mallory’s arm. “I have to get that email.”
She winced and pried my fingers off. “Easy there,” she said, looking over her shoulder and made a finger curling gesture to Payton, who came over with a shot glass filled to the brim with a clear liquid. Mallory passed it to me. “First off, drink that.”
“Getting me drunk isn’t going to help,” I snapped.
Her pale brow winged up. “It’s not going to hurt,” she countered.
Conversation on the deck returned as if some crazy lady hadn’t just made a scene.
“I’m going to lose my job,” I told her, staring at the shot, then tossing it back. I coughed, then winced as it burned all the way down. “Worse, Mal, he’s going to think I’m just like my professor.”
She leaned in close so all I could see was her. “Your professor lied, got you into bed and took your research and used it as his own. How is that even the same?”
Hearing her give a shotty recap of why I left MIT didn’t make me feel any better. “Maverick James will think Jason’s sexual harassment wasn’t one sided. I sent him a sex quiz. The title alone could get me fired. And if he reads it?”
I swallowed hard, willing the shot not to come back up.
“He’ll find it funny. I do. Unless you put his name on the last question.” Her eyes widened in panic. “Oh my God, please tell me you wrote you want to have sex with him.”
She was too excited about my stupidity for me to admit that if there was any guy I would want to sleep with, it would be Maverick James. But I kept that to myself.
“No, I didn’t put him.”
She stilled. Frowned. “Wait. Then who did you put? Are you hot for a local I don’t know about? I’m your best friend and you’re supposed to–”
“I put Jake Ryan.”
She blinked. Then laughed. “The hero from Sixteen Candles. You put in the exact same answer as Samantha Baker did in the movie.”
“I know. You were rushing me and he’s hot.”
“He wears a sweater vest.”
“He’s still hot and you know it.”
She sighed. “He is. But, God, Bridge… this would only happen to you.”
I ignored the fact that she was humored by my fuckup. “He told Jason there’s a zero tolerance policy for sexual harassment. Zero. I am going to lose my job,” I repeated. “I need that job. I mean, I can’t tell Lindy I dropped out of MIT so I can work for Eve at the coffee shop.”
“Lindy needs to chill the fuck out,” Mal countered.
My sister was wound tighter than anyone I knew and I’d never known her once, ever, chill the fuck out.
