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“Christ,” he groans. “I have an extra pair of jeans in my office. You can buy a jersey at the game. If you can spend your money on a four thousand dollar suit, you can buy yourself a jersey.”
Over my dead body.
“I’m not wearing a jersey like a fucking fanboy,” I growl.
“Then buy a damn t-shirt, but you’re not wearing a Tom Ford suit to a hockey game,” he retorts. “Now, hurry up before we’re late.”
“I don’t have time for this shit,” I mumble under my breath, turning and walking toward my desk.
“We can continue this conversation tomorrow morning,” I mutter to Roxanne as if we were having a very important meeting.
“Hey, Roxy,” Zion chimes in with a wave. “Sorry to be rude and barge in here, but your boss can’t seem to be on time for anything unless it’s work-related. He’s a real piece of work, this guy,” he scoffs.
“Tell me about it,” she quips, tossing me a playful wink that goes straight to my dick.
“Well,” Roxanne sighs, standing from the chair. “I’ll get out of your way. I know you guys are in a hurry. Have fun at the game tonight.”
She spins around to leave my office, but I make sure to get the last word in.
“Roxanne, wait,” I bellow. She stops in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at me.
“I meant what I said,” I say without a hint of amusement.
She is not going out with Zach.And if she tries, she will have hell to pay. And I will have blood on my hands. Blood by the name of Zachary Miller.
She rolls her eyes before tossing a wave at Zion.
“See ya, Zion,” she smiles.
“Have a good evening,” he grins back in a way that makes me want to strangle him.
Once Roxanne is out of sight, I narrow my eyes at Zion and toss him a threatening glare.
“Don’t look at her like that.”
“Like what?” he asks, arching a brow and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Like you have a fucking chance,” I clip, shutting down my computer and swiping my keys from the desk. “Don’t even think about it, Zion.”
He smiles smugly.
“Oh, sothat’swhat you two were doing in here with the door shut,” he mocks. “You were staking your claim, weren't you? You’re not really discreet about having a hard-on for your assistant.”
“Shut up,” I bark, turning off my office light and striding out the door. I lock up after Zion follows me out.
“Really, though. What’s going on between you two?” he asks, trailing behind me as we walk to the elevator.
“None of your business,” I snap.
“Are you serious, Elliot?” he scoffs. “I’m like your one and only friend, and we both know why. You don’t trust anyone,besides me. When have I ever told your shit to anyone? And you have a lot of shit.”
I don’t want to tell him anything, but an idea pops into my head that’s too good to pass up.
“Fine, I’ll tell you,” I groan, pressing the down arrow on the elevator bank. “But I need your help with something first.”
This will be easy because there’s simply nothing to tell. Nothing has happened between me and Roxanne and nothing will. I’m just baiting him at this point.
“Okay?” he replies hesitantly.
