Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(14)
Chapter Seven
Sierra
I hate dresses. They're only good for two things. Drawing unwanted male attention to your body, and making you worry that you’re going to flash your goods every time that you have to pick something up from the bottom shelf. The chafe currently living between my thighs would be enough to make me throw my stapler across my office in a fit of pained anger if my boss didn't happen to be standing in front of me, watching me oddly as I awkwardly shift my ass around on my leather office chair.
“Are you alright?" Cole Travis, head of Marketing asks slowly, the corner of his lips twitching. He must have noticed my scowl. Great, now he must think I’m a total bitch.
"Yeah, of course." I clear my throat and attempt to sit up straight. The sharp-featured male lets a star-studded smile bless my eyes as he nods, seemingly happy with my reply. He toys with one of his gold cufflinks, drawing my eyes to the crisp, perfectly tailored navy blue suit he’s wearing. A blush pink tie is knotted perfectly at the base of his throat, sticking out against the white dress shirt beneath it. He looks wealthy. Wealthy enough to intimidate me.
"Have you chosen a project yet? I know I gave you quite a few options."
"Almost. I’m stuck between two right now." I smile back, clicking my pen repeatedly before I realize that I’m fidgeting and drop it on my desk, placing my palms on my thighs instead. Somewhere safe.
“I want to ask which two, but I think I’ll wait and keep your decision a complete surprise.” His eyes move around my surprisingly spacious office when he adds, “I’m excited to see what you accomplish here, Sierra. I don’t believe you’ve ever been pushed to your full potential.”
I take his words with a grain of salt, knowing better than most how quickly things can take a turn for the worst. Especially in a company like this. One where disappointment and one wrong move can ruin your career.
"Thank you for the opportunity, sir. So am I." Heat rushes up the back of my neck and I drop my gaze to my open laptop, a bright, somewhat cliché quote beaming back at me.
A goal without a plan is just a wish.
"I'll check in with you in a few days. If you have any questions, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask." His kind tone is comforting as he gives me one final nod before slipping out the door. A dangerous amount of pride fills my chest as I finally let my grin breakthrough.
"Actually." Cole’s voice startles me, causing me to jump slightly as I notice him peeking back through the doorway. "How about you take the afternoon off? It’s a beautiful day."
"Are you sure?" I slip my bottom lip between my teeth anxiously. Is this some sort of test?
His unique, turquoise coloured eyes hold a playful glimmer as he shakes his head lightly. "I'm sure."
"Thank you, sir." I know I must be beaming.
"Cole works," he replies, his tone nearly weightless as he sends me a quick, almost missable wink and leaves my sight—for real this time. Leaning back in my chair, I snatch my phone from my desk drawer and call my sister.
"Sierra? Aren't you working?" she chuckles.
"That's why I'm calling! Now shut up and listen!"
"Okay, okay. Down girl."
"What do you say to margaritas and dancing tonight?" I can't hide my sudden excitement. Happiness warms my blood and I buzz in my seat. It’s been months since Clare and I have gone out together.
"You had me at margarita," she replies excitedly, a smile evident in her voice.
"My house at seven."
BRADEN
My single-story family home sits on the other side of a newly patched road. It glares at me, mocking my level of nervousness as I continue stalling my arrival. It's not like I'm not happy that the old man is finally happy again. It’s the overwhelming and honestly, disturbing fact that he's marrying someone I could be marrying that freaks me out. Out of every other single woman in the world, he had to go and choose someone twenty years his junior. Figures.
I spot my brother's brooding figure in the living room window, his head shaking at something being said to him. It's still so weird using that term. Brother.
"Crap," I mutter when Tyler's head turns to the street, blowing my cover when our dad follows his gaze, eyeing me up. Throwing open my door with a louder than needed groan, I step outside and attempt to prepare myself for the imminent hours of awkwardness I'm about to endure.
"Jerking off out there or something?" Tyler asks the second I walk inside and kick off my shoes.
"Fuck off, eh?"
"No can do, buddy. Lana made us a fancy dinner that we definitely don't want to miss." His annoyed expression matches mine to a T, not like I'm the least bit surprised. Tyler and I are similar enough that if you hadn't ever witnessed his grumpy “I hate the world” attitude and borderline anger issues, you would assume that we were twins. Of course, I'm the better-looking brother, but that's a discussion for another day.
"Did she? I can't wait.”
"Drop the sarcasm, dip shits. She can hear you," Dad snaps, his voice menacingly low. Dropping down on the cushion beside Tyler, I lift my brows and clasp my hands behind my head.