Friction(25)

"Of course I have an idea,” I argue, tossing my smooshed doughnut in the wastebasket by her desk. “I just want to run them by Jace first.”

"You're a consummate bullshitter. No wonder he chose you over Mr. Dungeons and Dragons." She runs her gaze over my body and bites her lip. "Guess it also helps that you look like that."

Ignoring that last part, because I'm not entirely sure how I should react to her thinking I was hired because of my physique, I arch an eyebrow. "Who’s Mr. Dungeons and Dragons?"

She rolls her chair so close to mine she’s practically in my lap. "So, he had this other guy who applied for the position—a real douche if you ask me—but it takes one to know one, right?" I lift my shoulders half-heartedly, not wanting to do any more damage by confirming that I think Jace is the king of the douches. She takes my shrug as an invitation to keep talking. "Well, this motherfucker had dragon tats everywhere and all he could talk about was how he uses our stuff in his own—”

"Daisy," a low voice growls in warning a few feet away. Both our heads snap toward the entrance to the workshop, where Jace is standing with one arm propped against the doorframe and his other hand skimming through his dark hair. He's wearing a long sleeve black V-neck with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms and a pair of work pants that are covered in black smudges and tiny flecks of metal. He looks dirty.

Dirty and too sexy for his own damn good.

I feel awful for thinking that, but not as bad since I know he and Daisy aren’t together.

He gives me a self-possessed turn of his full lips. "Morning, Williams.”

"Jace," I say with a stiff nod.

"The guys are still working on your office," he explains then yawns into his elbow. "Come with me while you wait. I want you to get a taste for what we do here."

A taste for what they do. The other night wasn't enough flavor?

Shakily, I fold my paperwork into the pocket of my laptop bag. Daisy flashes me an enthusiastic thumbs up and backs her chair away so I can stand.

"Let me know if you need to know how anything works," she's saying loudly as I follow after him. "Good luck. And if any of the guys give you shit, don't be afraid to tell them to fuck off."



Jace and I make a pit stop by my new office, which is slightly bigger than the reception area. The only furniture is a cushy rolling chair identical to Daisy's and an oversized desk that I can tell has been newly assembled based on the Ikea box leaned against one wall. After I put my laptop bag beneath the desk, Jace formally introduces me to Theo and Griffin. I feel my face catch fire when the latter says he’s always been a fan of hot Korean chicks.

"She's half-Vietnamese, you git," Jace points out, casting a dark look at Griffin, who shrugs sheepishly.

“My apologies.” He extends his arm, and we shake quickly before he stuffs both hands in his pockets. “I promise I’m harmless.”

“That’s because your lovely Korean wife will be a fan of twisting you by the balls for even glancing at our—” Blue-gray eyes roam over me, and my chest expands beneath Jace’s amused gaze. He’d given me the same look many times the other night, and it’s even more unnerving now. “—Lucy.”

Their Lucy.

His Lucy.

Well, damn. I rip my eyes from him. I still can’t face him without thinking of the other night or overanalyzing every word he says, so I look at Theo. Daisy’s Mohawk-wearing fiancé snorts and lifts a metal storage cabinet that’s at least a hundred pounds without so much as a grunt. "Nari won’t have much to twist." Peeking around the side, he bends his head in a cordial nod. "Welcome to the madhouse, ma'am."

It always catches me off guard when someone calls me ma'am—especially when they're probably older than me—but I don't correct him. “I’m happy to be here.”

“Sure you are,” Jace says under his breath before turning from the room and taking off. I follow behind him, maintaining a safe distance between our bodies when I finally catch up and fall in step beside him. I'm afraid to touch him. Afraid that, if I do, my body will react the same way it did on Saturday. To my embarrassment, the flutter returns to my chest when he studies the side of my face, as if he's willing me to look at him.

I don't.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Griff really is harmless, even if he has no filter. He’s very much in love with Nari and their thirty kids."

“Thirty kids. Really, Jace?”

“It’s three, but if you met them, you’d say thirty too.”

"Well, Griff is tame.” A gritty laugh tumbles past his lips, so I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "I'm not planning to talk about it if that's what you're waiting for." In fact, I had repeated it like a mantra all the way to work.

I will not talk about the sex party.

I will not bring up the Voyeur Room.

I will not freak out about what happened.

“Are you still pissed?”

“That you tricked me into walking blindly into a situation that made me uncomfortable?” I demand. “Of course I’m not.”

"And yet you came,” he drawls. "Good job on not being so … buttoned-up, by the way."