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I swallow the lump in my throat. “Thanks.”
“The way Atlas was staring at you in the meeting, like you two are lovers, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” Ember says. “He looks at you like he wants to fuck you until Sunday.”
Alyssa wiggles her eyebrows. “I heard he has a dick the size of an eggplant.”
His dick is big, but that would be too big. I don’t comment, and I squirm in my seat. My mind flashes with images of Saturday. Warmth spreads across my forehead and my cheeks.
“Impossible. No one’s dick is that big,” Ember answers.
“Can I ask you a question?” Alyssa asks me.
I nod. “Sure.”
“Did you get a scar on your face from the car accident? I don’t mean to be rude or anything.”
“It’s fine. Yes, it’s from the accident. It’s not something I like to talk about.”
Ember rubs the back of my hand. “It’s fine. We’re here if you need someone to talk to.”
I nod again.
They chat among themselves about work, fashion, and their weekend plans, but I don’t chime in, so I casually drink my soda. A few men waltz up to the table, and they chat with Alyssa and Ember, completely ignoring me. I don’t care. It happens to me all the time. I’m used to being invisible. The one with black hair stands next to me, and stares at my face, studying my scar like it’s a secret written on my face.
“I’m Conner,” he says.
“Lake.”
“Tell me about yourself, Lake. Your name is pretty, by the way.”
Conner’s tone is sweet like candy, and his breath invades my nostrils, reeking of alcohol. He wears a plaid shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and he’s lanky.
I’m not interested in him, and I already know what he wants. It’s a game he is playing. Step one: pretend to be interested in me. Step two: suggest we go back to his place. Step three: I turn them down, and they are disappointed.
“There is nothing to tell,” I say. “What about you?”
“Well, I’m a computer engineer for Apple, and I have a dog named Max.” He removes his phone from his pocket to show me a picture of the black-and-white husky.
I’m pretending to be interested, but I’m not. He’s not my type. My type is more of a businessman who is arrogant, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. Tall as a tree. Tan skin. But, I can’t have him because he’s my boss.
“He’s adorable. How old is he?”
“Only two years old, but he sure acts like a puppy. He tears every damn thing in sight. I had to replace two pairs of my shoes because of him.”
He doesn’t say anything funny, he’s not charming, and we have nothing in common.
“I’m allergic to dog fur.” I move my empty glass to the center of the table, then I swing my legs back and forth on the tall chair.
His eyes scan my body from head to toe. “Bummer.”
Butterflies don’t assault my stomach, nor do I feel the flutter in my chest like I do when I’m around Atlas. My mother always told me that if a man doesn’t make your heart skip a beat then he’s not the one.
My phone buzzes, so I yank it from my purse. A message from Atlas displays on the screen, and my heart hammers in my chest. My pulse quickens. I click on the envelope icon and a picture of the book I lent him pops up on the screen.
Arrogant Asshole: I read Desperate Measures yesterday. The shit Jafar does to Jasmine, I want to do to you.
I should send him a screenshot of my favorite parts in the book, but I don’t want to cross any more lines than we have already crossed. My cheeks turn red, and the back of my neck burns.
Me: I have to use my BOB every time I read the book.
