Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(64)

A flush crept up her neck. “Can you please stop that?”

“Stop what?” I very well knew what I was doing, and despite Mason’s warnings, I couldn’t stop.

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face and stop flirting with me.” She walked toward the chair again and plopped down. “Here are the facts. You are my boss, and I am your employee. I took you to a wedding, and, yes, we kissed and … okay, made out from what you told me.” She bit her bottom lip, and her knees bounced.

“Anything I did under the influence cannot be held against me. Listen, I promise not to stalk you or act weird, like all those other girls who date you and flip to the psycho side because I’m just not that type of person. But you …” She gave me a pointed look and extended her forefinger. “… you have to act normal, and pretend to flirt just to make me uncomfortable is not acting normal. You promised, Brad, remember?” She sagged against the chair as though that whole speech had wiped all the energy from her.

“I want everything to go back to how it was when I hated you and I annoyed the hell out of you.” She blew the bangs from her eyebrows. “Can we do that?” Her hands flew to her chest, her eyes pleading. “I need this to all be normal between us.”

I searched her face, and there were so many things that I wanted to say, like the fact that she never annoyed me or that I didn’t want her to hate me. Ever. And the fact that I’d had such a great time on Saturday night.

My heart felt as though it were shrinking. “Yes, Sonia, we can do that.” I tried to hide the heavy disappointment in my tone because I didn’t want normal. I wanted the opposite of normal between us.

The crinkle between her eyes eased. “Thanks, boss man. I really do love it here.”

“I’m glad.” And I was.

But I couldn’t help feeling like things were never going to be the same. Mostly like I was never going to be the same.





Brad

When she left, I plowed through my day, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But, when she came in and dropped my lunch on my desk, I waved her off, keeping my eyes steady on my computer screen. I noticed that her smile widened at my gesture because she thought we were getting back to our normal, but it was anything but. Because, every chance I got—when I went to the restroom, when I went to drop something off at her desk, or when I went to make a copy at the machine by her desk even though I never made my own copies—I’d steal glances at her when she wasn’t looking. I’d admire her profile and the natural poutiness in her lips when she was concentrating on her computer screen. Something that I had never noticed before.

And it wasn’t nearly enough. I had a crazy thought of making an excuse to move her desk into my office so I could have more time to study her features.

I felt like a stalker.

As the time moved closer to five, quitting time, my stomach churned. I wanted to think of an excuse to see her again. Catch a movie. Have dinner. Shit, staring contest. Any-damn-thing.

Wasn’t this Karma for all the broken hearts I’d left scattered around the city? This was what I got for dating girls that I never truly liked.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hated not feeling like myself.

Again, I tried to think of an excuse to keep her here, but I hadn’t asked her to work after-hours for a while. She knew everything on my schedule and all the big deals I was working on. There was nothing on the pipeline.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I knew I was acting like a little pussy who kept thinking about her pussy.

“OH MY GOD!” Sonia rushed through the doors, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing. “What the hell, Brad?” She stared me down like she was about to jump on me and wrap her arms around my neck.

That would be fine as long as her legs were wrapped around my waist. Pissed off Sonia, nervous Sonia, now fucking angry-as-hell Sonia. I decided the hottest one was the angry firecracker in front of me.

“Why would you agree to our monthly dinner?”

“What?” I quirked an eyebrow. Monthly dinner? My mind went blank.

“Aunt Chelsey.” She lifted both eyebrows. “Ring any bells? Because I don’t remember her inviting you to family dinner. That doesn’t ring any bells on my end.”

Laughter escaped me. Of course, she wouldn’t remember. She had been drunk beyond oblivion that night.

“It was your idea.”

She slapped her head and rested one hand on her hip. “Of course it was.” She groaned. “But why the hell would you agree to it when you knew I wouldn’t remember?”

“Have you met your aunt Chelsey?”

The woman hadn’t looked like she understood what the word no meant.

She groaned again. “You’re only my friend, okay?” She gave me a pointed stare. “They think otherwise, but these people are my family, so remember, you’re only my friend. I don’t want them getting any ideas.”

“Sure thing.” I smirked, silently fist-pumping inside. It was like God had answered my silent prayer because this was my way in.

She glared at me. “Wipe that smug smile off your face.”

“You know your aunt did see us holding hands at the wedding, right?”

She groaned louder.

“And kissing,” I added, trying to minimize my amusement.