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Was she disgusted with me? Herself?
Did I fuck up royally by pushing her into it?
Does she hate me even more now?
I wish I’d have answers to any of those questions as well as the ones I keep asking myself. The main one is:Can I survive without my new brand of oxygen?
The truth is, I should just set Lexi free. My life is too messed up for a perfect angel like her.
There is a reason why I don’t do relationships and only seek pleasure from women around me. Lexi simply doesn’t deserve it, but no matter what I tell myself and how much I try to stay away, it blows up in my face.
Obviously, ignoring her for two weeks didn’t do any good to either of us. I detonated right in front of her and unleashed my demons on her.
If not for that phone call, I’d fuck her ruthlessly on my desk and then on my couch, and afterward, I would take her to a hotel and fuck her all over again.
But now? Now, I’m not sure she will show up for work tomorrow morning, let alone come near me again.
Damn it, kissing Lexi and holding her in my arms felt good. No, not good. It felt right. It felt destined.
It felt serendipitous.
How am I supposed to walk away without having another taste?
Sure, I can’t offer her a future, and I will most likely get tired of this game within a month like I usually do, but currently, at this moment, I want nothing more than her.
18
LEXI
No, I absolutely did not sit around half the night gawking at the beautiful bouquet of white roses and that sinful, shameless note.
Nope, not at all.
Fine, I totally did, but can you blame me? When a man like Landon Locke sends you flowers like these after a kiss like that, a girl is allowed to feel a little off-kilter. And I say off-kilter because I absolutely refuse to put a name to the feeling that had settled comfortably at the bottom of my stomach and kept nagging me since yesterday.
As I’m riding the elevator to my floor, that feeling is growing more and more defined. Oh, God, I think I will throw up.
Maybe taking a day—no, a week—off would’ve been smart. But guess what?
I wanted to see him. Yep, I am a masochist like that.
What am I supposed to say to him? How am I supposed to act? I should’ve stayed after that kiss yesterday and talked things through instead of running away like a scared teenager with a crush on her teacher. But oh, well, it’s too late now. The dooropens, and I step out onto the floor and immediately get dumped into an interrogation by Enzo.
“Oh em gee, please tell me where can I find me a man like you got?” He asks, and I feel all the blood draining from my face, and I nearly throw up. Does he know? Does everyone know? Did that asshole of a boss tell them?
Oh, God, did he hear us yesterday? What the hell was I thinking? That’s right, I wasn’t.
“W-what do you mean?” I ask nervously, trying to read his face for any hints.
Enzo hooks his arm around mine and drags me off to my desk. As soon as we round the corner, I see it.
“That, I mean that,” he points to a very large, red box with an oversized velvet bow on top of it. Off to the side of the box, there is another bouquet- red roses this time.
I swallow and cautiously approach my desk. God only knows what Landon could have put inside that box.
“Come on, open it! I need to see it! I’ve been dying to know ever since I showed up to work.”
I look at my watch and frown at Enzo. “You literally just got here not five minutes ago.”
