AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I don’t think I’m ready to smile through that hurt just yet.
By Friday, though?
I am absolutely sick of it.
So we’re going to hash this out, make a decision, and figure out just how long we’re going to keep this farce up so we’re not dancing around each other for weeks at a time.
I pack a basket with food and some comfy blankets and tuck it in the back seat of my grandmother’s cute little light-green Audi. I’ve been stealing it for the commute every day, since it’s pretty much a given that August isn’t picking me up anymore, and I won’t put Rick out picking me up.
Then I drive to the office.
I march—well, glide, I guess, in the elevator—upstairs, then walk to his office door.
I knock firmly and walk in without waiting for permission.
August glances up, his mouth opening sharply—only to shutter over again. He gives me another mournful puppy dog look that makes me seethe before he looks away, staring glassily at the wall.
I’m almost mad that he looks so good when he’s being broody.
That little curl of hair over his wrinkled brow, his full lips just slightly parted and pensive.
And of course his suit—steel grey today, with a black tie and a dark-grey shirt—looks impeccable on him, framing the perfect lines of his well-built body.
He’s not allowed to be this hot when I’m pissed at him.
“Miss Lark.” His tone is empty when he finally speaks. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Oh, fuck off,” I throw back. Not exactly how I wanted to start this, but my temper’s just as explosive as the rest of me. I stalk across the room, my heels clicking, and steal his hand from his laptop keyboard, tugging as hard as I can. “And come with me.”
My tugging isn’t even enough to make his desk chair swivel. But August flinches and pulls back on his hand.
“Miss Lark, I have to work—”
“Nope! You have to stop being a coward first.” I yank on him again. “You’re coming now. I’m not giving up, even if you pick me up and chuck me out of here.”
This time I manage to pull him off balance, more by sheer luck than anything.
He slides forward in his seat and rises to his feet to get his bearings in a flex of his muscular thighs against his slacks. It gives me a little more leverage to brace my heels and really pull as I turn to drag him toward the door.
“Miss Lark!” he protests. “Where are you—”
“Stop calling me Miss Lark, and I’m taking you to eat a picnic.” I whirl back to face him, letting go of his hand and bracing my own on my hips. “Look, you can sit here and sulk, or you can come eat with me. Somehow, I don’t think you want to sulk that badly.”
August gives me an odd look, but his gaze flits away again, avoiding eye contact. He gives me a weary sigh and reaches up to brush that wild lock of hair back, but it just falls over again, dangling in front of one glassy blue eye.
“If I agree to this, will you let me finish my damned work?”
“Sure,” I say, suddenly feeling sour. “You can do whatever you want.”
His lips purse. It’s like the old August I met on the plane all over again.
“Whatever.”
Yep.
I could kick him right now.
This has been building up for a solid week, but even I wasn’t expecting that I’d end up bullying him into coming with me.
