this,”
he said.
“Pfft. I’m
still sore after you refused the post-shower massage.”
“I changed my
mind.” He grazed my nipples. “And I like that I left you…sore.”
A knock sounded
at the door then and we both jumped. I waited a second. Was he
going to kiss me?
No. Strange
boy.
“I’d better get
that,” I mumbled, going to climb off.
“Leila.” A
finger silenced me as he held my waist. He eased the skirt up my
thigh to reveal a blossoming blackberry of a bruise. “What’s
this?”
“I…uh.” What
does it look like, Mr Merchant? “You know how I got that.”
Joseph circled
the bruise with the pad of his thumb. Then he scooped inward until
the purple paled and my nerves twinged, and his gaze cut into me,
ushering a whimper. I bit my lip, clutched at his shoulder, willed
myself not to break. But when a nail scored across the marbled
skin, the heat went acidic and the whimper came.
Another knock
shook the door, and it was impetuous, impatient.
I scrawled a
few things I already knew over the papers, and hurried over to
loosen the lock. Algie Bach–a senior partner they called BFG, big
and fucking gruesome–stood outside in all his Fester-esque glory.
He shot me a disapproving stare.
“I hope you’re
not distracting our Joe too much, Miss Vaughn,” he said.
I tipped my
chin. “I’ve barely been in here five minutes, Mr Bach. I shall
leave you to it.”
Outside, Matt
wouldn’t look at me as I sat back down.
“Did you get
everything sorted?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said
tentatively, making sure Poppy didn’t pick up on his disapproval.
“Just got a bit confused over some of the sub-clauses and didn’t
want to do a Bhan.” I waited for his petty remark, but it didn’t
come, and that made me feel more uncomfortable than if he’d said it
in the first place.
In the end, we
were finished long before ten, though I was too brain-dead to
endure anything remotely as chipper as a conversation with Aidan.
I’d cancelled with him earlier on.
Matt and I
walked almost the same route home and that night, as the past few,
I deliberately stayed later so that I didn’t end up loitering
awkwardly behind him.
It seemed he
had cottoned on to this because he waited by the Starbucks on the
corner.
“Are you
avoiding me?” he asked.
“I thought you might want to avoid me ,”
I said feebly.
“Well.” He
shifted from one foot to the other. “I did, for a bit.” He started
forward. “Walk with me?”
Fortunately, we
needed to focus on weaving through the knitted pedestrians–a good
excuse to ignore the elephant in the tomb. We walked like that for
about five minutes until the streets became quieter, the trees
denser before the rows of imposing Victorian builds.
He stopped
suddenly. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Um…nothing, I
think.”
“I’ve got this
rugby fundraiser thing. You should come with me.”
“Oh?” Ooh.
We walked
shoulder-to-shoulder now, albeit about half a foot in height
difference.
“Do you want
to?” He blatantly knew why I’d gone into Joseph’s office, and along
with everything else that had occurred, the last thing I had
expected was another proposition.
“I just…I suppose… why ?”
He caught my eye for the first time that evening. “Because
against my better judgment, Leila, I do like you.” He lowered his
gaze again to fiddle with his bag strap. “And I figured that
while I know
he’s a fucktard and I’m infinitely better, I need to show
you.”
I couldn’t help
it, I started laughing. How did a girl refuse that line?
“I’m glad you
find me so amusing,” he grumbled.
“No, it’s not
that. It’s just…well, you were very blunt.”
“I’m trying to
be assertive. Do you like it?”
“Yes,
actually.” I smiled. “I do.”
“So…if I
assertively tell you to come with me, that’s that then?” he said
hopefully.
“What happened
to not wanting me with all the Joseph stuff going on?”
He was
he said.
“Pfft. I’m
still sore after you refused the post-shower massage.”
“I changed my
mind.” He grazed my nipples. “And I like that I left you…sore.”
A knock sounded
at the door then and we both jumped. I waited a second. Was he
going to kiss me?
No. Strange
boy.
“I’d better get
that,” I mumbled, going to climb off.
“Leila.” A
finger silenced me as he held my waist. He eased the skirt up my
thigh to reveal a blossoming blackberry of a bruise. “What’s
this?”
“I…uh.” What
does it look like, Mr Merchant? “You know how I got that.”
Joseph circled
the bruise with the pad of his thumb. Then he scooped inward until
the purple paled and my nerves twinged, and his gaze cut into me,
ushering a whimper. I bit my lip, clutched at his shoulder, willed
myself not to break. But when a nail scored across the marbled
skin, the heat went acidic and the whimper came.
Another knock
shook the door, and it was impetuous, impatient.
I scrawled a
few things I already knew over the papers, and hurried over to
loosen the lock. Algie Bach–a senior partner they called BFG, big
and fucking gruesome–stood outside in all his Fester-esque glory.
He shot me a disapproving stare.
“I hope you’re
not distracting our Joe too much, Miss Vaughn,” he said.
I tipped my
chin. “I’ve barely been in here five minutes, Mr Bach. I shall
leave you to it.”
Outside, Matt
wouldn’t look at me as I sat back down.
“Did you get
everything sorted?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said
tentatively, making sure Poppy didn’t pick up on his disapproval.
“Just got a bit confused over some of the sub-clauses and didn’t
want to do a Bhan.” I waited for his petty remark, but it didn’t
come, and that made me feel more uncomfortable than if he’d said it
in the first place.
In the end, we
were finished long before ten, though I was too brain-dead to
endure anything remotely as chipper as a conversation with Aidan.
I’d cancelled with him earlier on.
Matt and I
walked almost the same route home and that night, as the past few,
I deliberately stayed later so that I didn’t end up loitering
awkwardly behind him.
It seemed he
had cottoned on to this because he waited by the Starbucks on the
corner.
“Are you
avoiding me?” he asked.
“I thought you might want to avoid me ,”
I said feebly.
“Well.” He
shifted from one foot to the other. “I did, for a bit.” He started
forward. “Walk with me?”
Fortunately, we
needed to focus on weaving through the knitted pedestrians–a good
excuse to ignore the elephant in the tomb. We walked like that for
about five minutes until the streets became quieter, the trees
denser before the rows of imposing Victorian builds.
He stopped
suddenly. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Um…nothing, I
think.”
“I’ve got this
rugby fundraiser thing. You should come with me.”
“Oh?” Ooh.
We walked
shoulder-to-shoulder now, albeit about half a foot in height
difference.
“Do you want
to?” He blatantly knew why I’d gone into Joseph’s office, and along
with everything else that had occurred, the last thing I had
expected was another proposition.
“I just…I suppose… why ?”
He caught my eye for the first time that evening. “Because
against my better judgment, Leila, I do like you.” He lowered his
gaze again to fiddle with his bag strap. “And I figured that
while I know
he’s a fucktard and I’m infinitely better, I need to show
you.”
I couldn’t help
it, I started laughing. How did a girl refuse that line?
“I’m glad you
find me so amusing,” he grumbled.
“No, it’s not
that. It’s just…well, you were very blunt.”
“I’m trying to
be assertive. Do you like it?”
“Yes,
actually.” I smiled. “I do.”
“So…if I
assertively tell you to come with me, that’s that then?” he said
hopefully.
“What happened
to not wanting me with all the Joseph stuff going on?”
He was
Similar Books
