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Unless…
No.
God.
That was a ridiculous idea.
“I promise I won’t do the job until I am sure I am in the right place,” I told Josie.
“Okay,” she agreed, nodding.
“You going to head out?” I asked as she started to rearrange her desk.
“Yeah. I have a hot date with the bookstore,” she said.
“Text me when you get home,” I demanded as she got up to check that Binx had enough food and water to hold him over until the morning. “Maybe I’ll drop by after to get you,” she said, rubbing under Binx’s chin for the two-point-five seconds he allowed that before he started to swipe at her.
“He’ll be fine,” I reassured her.
He had more than enough space. And he generally loathed all human contact, so it wasn’t like he would be lonely.
“Yeah, I know. I just feel bad for him.”
“He spends his time at your apartment tucked under the couch, avoiding you,” I reminded her.
“That’s true,” she said, nodding. “Alright. Are you heading out too?” she asked as she grabbed her purse.
“Yeah. I’ll walk you to your car.”
It was still reasonably light out. But I was paranoid about Josie’s safety. She was just so darn… soft. Innocent. I wanted to protect that at all costs.
From there, I hopped into my own car, doing some more scoping things out, shoring up my plans.
And losing my focus about every ten minutes.
It was freaking infuriating, to be honest.
I’d never struggled to focus on a job before.
Especially not a job as important as this one.
There was no way I could go through with the next phase the way my mind was right then.
“Damnit,” I hissed, slamming my head back on the rest as my fingers squeezed the steering wheel over and over, trying to talk myself out of it.
In the end, though, my hand went to the ignition button and my foot slid to the accelerator.
And I was driving.
I didn’t even have to look it up. Because my stupid, horny ass self had already looked up the address of the clubhouse online. Just in case.
Really, I couldn’t think of a single other way to get my head back into the game but to fuck the guy again.
It wasn’t an especially long drive to Golden Glades, but the roads got increasingly desolate as I went, making it feel like it should have been further from Miami than it was.
Sometime as I was closing in on the clubhouse, my phone dinged, telling me that Josie was safely home, and asking if I was okay.
I paused outside the open front gates of the clubhouse—which was, surprisingly, an actual house—to text her back, telling her all was good, and to enjoy her new books.
