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Huxley helps me into the car before climbing into the driver’s seat. He stares at me for a few moments before speaking. “I would have killed him if he hurt you.”
My fingers twist into a nervous knot. “He didn’t.”
He offers his palm between us. There’s an overwhelming sadness as I place my hand in his. Huxley threads his fingers through mine and squeezes.
“You’re trembling,” he states.
I’ve danced with men as disgusting as Graham, but I’ve never felt like this.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Huxley lays a gentle kiss on my hand. “Never apologise for being human.”
I shake my head as tears fall. “I’m being ridiculous, crying over nothing.” I clear my throat. “Let’s go.”
“No,” he murmurs. “Let it out, sweetheart.”
So, I do. In the silence of the car, I cry to myself.
Except, I’m not alone. Huxley holds my hand tight and doesn’t let go.
13
Huxleyhuffsforthetenth time when the crunch from my crisp echoes in the room. To purposefully wind him up, I shove a handful in and chew louder.
“Is it your lunch break, Savannah?” he asks.
I check the time on my computer. “It’s only ten thirty,” I point out.
“Exactly,” he growls. “I’m not paying you to eat.”
“You’renot the one paying me,“ I remind him with a smile.
“I hope you choke on those crisps,” he mumbles.
My loud chortle startles him. “I bet you wish it was your cock I was choking on.”
Having grabbed his attention, he looks up from his laptop and glares at me. “We’re not doing this.”
Resting my feet on my desk, I expose my long legs to him. “Doing what?” I ask, putting on my best innocent face.
The look of hunger vanishes when Xavier barges through the door. He frowns at my posture. “This is an office, Miss Hayes.”
I rub my flat belly. “Baby feels more comfortable this way.”
The joke doesn’t unknot his features. “Please sit appropriately.”
Huxley smirks in my direction, and when Xavier turns away, I salute my middle finger at him.
“Very mature,” Huxley remarks before focusing on Xavier. “Everything okay?”
It only takes five seconds to zone out of their business jargon. Instead, I skim-read Elliot’s texts. I don’t know how many times I can ask him to leave me alone. I decide the best way to get the message across is to ignore him, so I do.
“Do you need anything?” Xavier asks before he exits.
“A car? A time machine so I can skip to the end of the pregnancy?”
His chuckle is soft and fills me with warmth. “My meeting finishes at six, but I’ll leave earlier if you want.”
