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What. The actual fuck.
My brothers crack up.
“Oh, this one’s got fire, big brother,” Nolan says, sauntering out.
Fire that I’d like to test out myself, somewhere private.
I swallow back the thought. “You’re right, of course.” I bare her my most businessy smile. “See you tomorrow, bright and early. And on time.”
She tucks a wavy blonde strand behind her ear. “See you.”Chapter 2Harley
“Yes, Hannah, I really am on the plane to Costa Rica.” I frown, even though Hannah is thousands of miles away, probably chowing down the falafel I left by the sounds of it, and can’t see my frown at any rate. “You were there while I was frantically packing, remember?”
“Maybe I’m just trying to block it from my memory.” She cackles. “The sight of you yelling at nothing while you tried to fit half your closet into a tote the size of my boot was unenjoyable to say the least.”
“Not unenjoyable enough to avoid you filming some of it to show me later,” I remind her. “Remind me again why I thought living together was a good idea?”
I’m just messing with her, and Hannah knows it.
“Because we’re two peas in one wild pod,” she continues breezily, “Besides, what else are cousins for?”
“I don’t know, moral support? Once a year family gatherings and nothing more?”
“We’ve never been that kind of cousins, and you know it.”
I sigh. “And thank God for it, but seriously, Han, I’m freaking right now.” I look around, lowering my voice even though I don’t see anyone sitting nearby. “I’m on a fancy-ass plane on my way to Costa Rica to work with Greyson Storm on StormTV.”
“I still can’t believe he just let your punctuality jab slide.”
“He did ask for suggestions.”
“Har. On your first day—literally seconds after you’d been hired? In most places, that would be career suicide.”
“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” I say, with a bit more confidence than I feel.
“He probably thought you were hot,” Hannah says easily.
I throw another stealthy look around before declaring, “Top executives like Mr. Storm do not hire someone just because they’re hot! Not for a job like this. Maybe for some kind of secretary or ass-kissing position.”
Hannah sighs. “Ah, professional ass-kisser. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
We crack up. “Honestly, though, this is a great opportunity. I know that I’m ready, but I’m still nervous.”
“Good,” Hannah says. “Welcome to the real world.”
I frown, playing with a fishtail braid I keep doing and undoing. “I do get nervous, you know. Just not for minor things.”
“Being nervous for the first date with the Most Handsome Man Alive is not a minor thing.” I can hear the ice in Hannah’s voice, even though she’s now happily dating Roger, AKA the Most Handsome Man Alive.
“Sorry,” I say. “Different things freak us out, I think.”
“Have you ever gotten freaked out over a guy?” she asks.
“Nope, not since James stood me up for that Grade Eight dance, and I don’t plan to start now. Anyway, how’s Anchovy doing?” I’m surprised I forgot about my cute little fat ferret for this long.
“Escaping every other hour, sneaking into Giselle’s and pissing her off,” Hannah informs me.
“Our dearly beloved neighbor hasn’t moved out yet?”
“She’ll never move out. She exists to spite us.”
“Well, you did get promoted over her. And didn’t Anchovy shit all over her Peruvian rug that one time she tried smacking him with a broom?”
We crack up, although I yawn mid-way through. “Think I should get some sleep. I basically got none last night.”
“I know, I was there. But yeah—you have a good sleep. We’ll talk soon. Good luck with your awesome new job and sexy new boss. If you decide to jump his bones, I want details!”
“Han!” I hiss, but, laughing, she’s already hung up.
“Jump his bones,” I mutter to myself ruefully.
Although the thought had crossed my mind, even during the interview itself—Greyson Storm is six feet four inches of dark-haired sculpted gorgeousness—I’m here for the job. Sex would just get in the way.
I close my eyes and slow my breathing. Now, if I could just get a good few hours of shut-eye…
I open them to a hand on my shoulder. It’s Greyson. “Mind if I sit here?”
“Yeah?” I say.
A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Although I’m less sure as soon as he’s beside me. He smells… attractive, and I’m not a scent girl. Neither did I think a guy smelling like pine would be at all a turn-on, but here I am, biting at the inside of my lip to avoid practically drooling over his alluring scent.
Then there’s how he’s sitting, legs sprawled lazily so that they touch mine. His voice is equally lazy as he speaks to me, although he doesn’t as much as look my way. “You sure you’re up to this?”
Something tells me he’s not talking about the job.
