Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(27)
“So you were serious,” Wes put in.
“And what did Crazy Cassie do after she blew you?” Kline asked way more sincerely than I’d ever heard anyone deliver those words before.
I dropped my head back, and I pulled at the choking tie at my neck. “She said to enjoy the bag of French fries she’d brought me and that she’d see me at f*cking home.”
“Fucking home?” Wes replied like a smartass. “What’s that?”
“At home, jackhole. My home. I swear to God, Kline, she’s moving in with me. I don’t know what happened, but I think she’s suffering from some kind of psychotic break. With Georgia in the middle, you and I probably won’t be able to be friends anymore.”
The sounds of two varying degrees of laughter filled my ear.
“This isn’t funny! One sleepy bone, and this chick thinks she lives with me!”
Wes stopped trying to soften his laughter and dove into it full out. “This is f*cking hilarious.”
Kline finally took pity on me. He found compassion through his laughter, but he found it. He was definitely above Wes on my list of friendship today. “Relax, man. She’s probably f*cking with you.”
My elbows went to the surface of my desk as I leaned forward quickly. “Why would she do that?”
“Would you f*ck with you right now?”
Obviously, I would. He took my silence as an affirmative.
“Exactly.”
“Shit.” I hadn’t even considered how similar we were.
“Plus,” he went on, “I told Georgie about your freak-out this morning, and she may have been getting ready to leave for lunch with Cassie when I did.”
“Fuck! Kline, I told you not to spread this shit around.”
“And I told you I was going to tell Georgie. I’m not even sorry.”
Wes continued to laugh.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”
“Listen,” Wes said, just barely softening his chuckles enough so that he could speak. “If she’s gonna f*ck with you, why don’t you f*ck with her?”
My eyes narrowed at the empty spot on my office floor. “What do you mean?”
“She’s obviously expecting you to squirm. Turn it around on her.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Kline agreed.
I pondered to myself and decided I could do that. I was way more comfortable as the messer than I was as the messee. “Fine. I’ll text her something.”
“Make sure you tell us what it is,” Wes demanded.
“Didn’t you guys call me for f*cking reasons?”
“Mine can wait,” Wes said just as Kline murmured, “This is suddenly more important.”
“Fuck you guys.”
“Bye, Princess Peach,” Kline said in dismissal through his chuckles.
Wes’s laugh trailed on after Kline hung up.
“You seriously don’t have questions for me?” I asked.
“We’ll talk about it all when I get back. But you better f*cking tell me how this plays out.”
“Don’t worry, Samantha. I’ll fill you in on all the happenings of Sex and the City.”
Slamming the phone into the cradle before he could say more, I picked up my cell phone off the corner of the desk and pulled up her number to text.
Me: Thanks for “lunch.” I need to stop by the drugstore on my way home. Need me to pick you up anything, honey?
Sent. Think you can mess with me? Think again, honey.
Student, meet teacher.
I reread the text and triple-checked that the message was in fact from Thatch.
Did he just send me a goddamn kissy-face emoji?
I opened and closed my eyes a few times, just to be sure what I was seeing was real.
For the love of freaks, he really sent that.
I knew I was a talented cocksucker, but I had told him I would see him at home after putting him back into his pants. Home, meaning his home, meaning he should’ve thought I was off my rocker and actually trying to move in with him, meaning that text message should’ve been him freaking the hell out. Not all kissy-faced and asking me if I needed anything from the store.
Why wasn’t he losing his shit over this?
I grabbed my phone off my coffee table and called Georgia.
“Hell—” she started to answer, but I immediately interrupted.
“I think he’s f*cking crazy.”
“—o,” she finished with too much amusement in her voice.
“I’m being serious, Wheorgie. I think Thatch might be crazier than me, and believe me, I know that’s a f*ckload of crazy.”
She laughed. “Why do you think he’s crazy?”
“He just texted me after I gave him an ‘I’m sorry for falling asleep on your dick before you blew your load’ blow job in his office and asked me if I needed anything from the store on his way home. Not to mention he sent me a goddamn kissy-face emoji. He’s nuts, that’s all there is to it. A total whack-job with a Supercock.”
Yeah, no doubt about it, that kissy-face-emoji-sending-motherf*cker needed to spend some time in a padded room and reevaluate his life choices. At least, that’s what I needed Georgie to think I was thinking.