If I Only Knew(24)

Nicole shakes her head. “He means beer and drunk.”

“You don’t have to stay.” Danielle comes close to me. “I appreciate that you came at all, Milo. I really do, but I can’t imagine you would want to stick around.”

Here’s the out every man waits for.

She’s gift wrapped it.

And I’m going to return it—like a fool.

“My treat.” I wink. “I insist.”

Danielle places her hand on my arm, pushing me further back from her friends.

“If this is some . . .”

“It’s not.” I cut her off before she can say game or whatever other word she might come up with. “Let me do this,” I implore her.

“Why?”

That is the million-dollar question.

Because I like her.

Because she’s strong, resilient, and I see my life in hers.

Which is a very bad thing.





Chapter Twelve





Danielle





Why can’t I stop looking his way? Was Ava right when she said he was “sex on a stick hot”? I don’t think he’s ugly by any means, but . . . it’s been a long time since I looked at a man like that.

Is it his personality that people are drawn to? My friends sure were laughing at his jokes, smiling with him, and having a good time last night. Not to mention the waitress who practically fell in his lap towards the end.

They know he’s trying to take my job. I know this as well, but here I am, staring at him, trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

“Can I help you?” Milo asks as he catches me.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re staring,” he calls me out.

“I’m just trying to figure out something,” I confess.

“Is it why I’m so deliciously sexy?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Your mouth totally ruined that.”

Once again, I really look at him, trying to see him through a single girl’s eyes. His scruff is a few days old, giving him a gruffer look than when he’s clean shaven. He definitely works out by the way his shirts fit, unless he buys them too small to look bigger. Heather’s ex-husband Matt did that, and we would all make fun of him for it too. I don’t think Milo would stoop to that level, but I wouldn’t put it past him either.

“You think the accent is sexy then?”

I sigh. “Why do you think it has anything to do with what you look like?”

“Because those blue eyes are roaming all over my body.”

Busted.

“Fine,” I acquiesce. “I was staring because everyone thinks you’re hot, but I wasn’t sure. I was trying to understand what all the hype is about.”

His jaw falls open as if what I said is completely insane. “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“I’m trying to understand the hype,” I say unapologetically. “I was just putting the pieces together.”

“On whether or not I’m?”

“Hot.”

Milo stares at me, his green eyes darkening. “And?”

“And what?”

He groans, running his hand down his face. “And what have you concluded?”

He’s really not going to like this, but I’ve already inserted my foot in my mouth enough, might as well swallow it now.

“I’m still not sure.”

“Unbelievable. I’m offended,” he huffs.

Shit.

I’m his boss and I basically told him I was checking him out. Way to go, Danielle. Why don’t you just slap yourself with a sexual harassment suit while you’re at it. I need to fix this.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line. As your boss, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He scoffs. “I’m not offended because you’re my boss!”

“I just know I have a position of power over you. There’s the whole “me too” movement and I wasn’t trying to make you think . . .”

“That you’re bloody insane? I already do thanks to this. How do you not know if you find me sexually attractive?”

“Okay,” I say slowly. “I can see that this is a touchy subject for you. I don’t want you to think that since I’m your boss, I was trying to take advantage of that.”

Milo’s brows raise and he stops speaking.

Well, if I didn’t screw myself the first time, I sure did now, pointing out my major professionalism fail.

“Milo?” I finally say after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“I’ve been told by many that I’m irresistible.”

“And humble?”

“No, never that, but I can’t believe you’re questioning whether or not I’m attractive.”

I shrug. “Do you consider yourself hot?”

“Damn right I do,” he stands, pulling his jacket off.

“Okay, keep your clothes on!”

“I’m merely showing you what you need to see,” he says while unbuttoning his shirt.

“Milo!” I laugh.

He sits back down, still not happy. “I have never had a woman be unsure if I’m good looking. What is wrong with you?”