by Kaylee Ryan
“Here.” Jase tosses me a napkin.
“What’s that for?”
“The drool. Right there.” He taps the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck off.” I toss the napkin back at him. “You knew she would be here.”
“Yep.” He grins, clearly proud of himself.
“And Sam?”
“Oh, Sam invited her.”
“I get that, Einstein. Sam didn’t invite me over for dinner, did she?”
“Nope.” Another grin. This one makes his eyes crinkle in the corners.
“Dick move, Andrews.”
“Nah, I had to see it. Between Sam singing her praises and the intel I got from your brothers this week, I had to see it for myself.”
“See what?” I pretend that I have no clue what he’s talking about. We both know that I’m lying.
“Avoidance. Nice.” He nods.
“There is nothing to avoid. She’s my new assistant because you knocked up my old one.” I raise my eyebrows, daring him to argue. We both know he can’t.
“Damn right, I did. That’s my future wife you’re talking about.”
“Are you done? Don’t you have dishes to do?”
“Don’t go changing the subject on me, Riggins. What gives?” He crosses his arms over his chest. He might be retired from football, but he’s still in game day shape.
“It looks bad on the company.”
“You’re full of shit.” He studies me for several long minutes, and I try not to squirm. “Just admit it. You like her.”
“Sure, she’s nice enough.” And yes, I’ve imagined myself between her thighs.
“What’s it going to take to bring you back to the land of the living? Not all women are like Je—” he starts, but I stop him.
“Don’t even say her name.”
“Come on, and it’s been what? Four years?”
“We are not talking about this. I should get going.”
He coughs into his elbow, and I can easily make out the word pussy. He’s quick to judge, but he’s never walked a mile in my shoes. Having your wife cheat on you in your bed with another woman, it fucks with your head. Especially since they’re now married and parents to a little girl they adopted. I try not to think about her. Instead, I block out anything that has to do with relationships and go on my merry way. I lived it, it’s over, and I’ve moved on. I’m not the same man I was back then. Her betrayal changed me.
“You and I both know you’re not going anywhere but to the living room to see your girl.”
“She’s not mine.”
“No? Cool. I’ll fix her up with one of the guys from the team. Josh needs to find a good woman and settle down.”
“You’re not fucking fixing her up with Josh,” I say through gritted teeth.
“That’s what I thought. Come on, lover boy.” He tosses the dishtowel on the counter and makes his way toward the living room. I follow along behind him, just like he knew that I would. I should leave. I’m sure this is awkward for her, especially after the fit I through earlier this week about her meeting Conrad and Marshall at the club. This is the same scenario, but this time it’s me, and even though I know I should leave, I don’t. I can’t. Something inside me wants to soak up as much of her time and attention as I can.
Jase takes a seat on the couch next to Sam, while I take the chair. I’m sitting directly across from Sawyer. She’s talking to Sam and making it her job to not look over at me. I watch as she finishes her glass of wine, and Jase quickly stands to refill it, bringing Sam a tall glass of milk when he does. The women keep talking about baby names, and a lot of other things that I tune out. It’s Friday night, and I’m sitting here staring at my new assistant like the stalker that she’s turning me into, and I realize there is nowhere else I’d rather be. I get to watch her freely as Jase and I sit back and pretend to be following the conversation.
“Don’t you two have something else to do?” Sam asks, looking at Jase, then turning her head to look at me. “Go down and play some pool or something.”
“You up for a game?” Jase asks.
“You mean, am I willing to kick your ass in a game of pool? Sure.” I stand and watch as he kisses Sam on the forehead before walking toward the basement steps. I have a strong urge to do the same with Sawyer, but she’s not mine. So, instead, I follow Jase down to the basement.
For the first time in my life, I’m jealous of my best friend. I’ve never been jealous of his fame that came from not only his talent but his career. Hell, I wasn’t even jealous when he and Sam finally stopped dancing around one another and quickly fell in love. I wasn’t jealous when he told me they were having a baby, but right here tonight, I’m green with envy. All because of her. Sawyer. Jase and I met in college. While he was hitting the gym or going to practice, me and a few of our other buddies were hanging out at a local pizza joint working on our pool game. Jase hates that I’m better than him. At least I used to be. It’s been a while since I’ve played. I need to pull my head out of my ass and stop thinking about my assistant, who is just upstairs, or I might lose my winning streak.
“I’m gonna head out,” I say, placing my pool stick on the rack a couple of hours later.
“It’s like that, is it?” Jase laughs.
“What? Beating your ass three games in a row isn’t enough?” He mumbles something under his breath I can’t make out. That’s fine, though. I don’t need to know what he’s saying to know he’s irritated that he only won one of the four games we played. I might have even let him win that one, but I’m not telling him that.
“I need to check on Sam anyway.” Turning off the lights, we head back upstairs to find the women right where we left them. Sam is smiling, holding her belly while Sawyer is standing, acting something out. “Looks like we got here just in time for a good one,” Jase says, going straight to the couch and taking a seat next to Sam.
I should head home, but the smile that’s lighting up Sawyer’s face, the carefree look in her eyes, has me taking my spot in the chair across from her. I open my mouth to ask her what she’s doing, but Sam beats me to it.
“You’re killing me, Sawyer,” she says, wiping her eyes.
“What did we miss?” Jase asks.
“She was just reenacting how she kicked her last boss in the balls.”
My eyes widen. This is news to me. I’m irritated she didn’t tell us, or if she did, Gail kept it from me, and I’m pissed off because she was in a position where she felt like kneeing the jackass in the balls was her only option. “Sawyer—” I start, and she turns to face me.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Riggins, I mean, Mr. Royce, sir, your balls are safe from me.” There is a slight slur to her voice, and I can’t help but wonder how many glasses of wine she’s had. Not to mention the fact that my balls are tight and aching for her.
“He deserved it,” Sam chimes in. She’s completely sober, but she’s acting as though she’s also had one too many.
“Babe? You been drinking?” Jase raises a brow in question, but there is a smirk tilting his lips that tells me he’s just giving her a hard time.
“Jase Andrews, I should kick your ass. You know better than that.” She rubs her belly affectionately.
I watch as Jase reaches over and places his hands on hers. “I’m sorry, baby, and I’ve only seen you like this when you’ve been drinking. You ladies look like you’ve been hitting the happy juice.”
I don’t comment on the fact that they only dated for a hot minute before he knocked her up. I have a feeling my opinions aren’t wanted.
“That’s because she’s great. I miss having a girlfriend around. It’s been too long, and Sawyer reminds me so much of Carrie.”
“I might have had a couple of these.” Sawyer raises her wineglass in the air before placing it to her lips and draining the remainder.
“I think you’ve had enough.” My voice is gruff even to my own ears.
“Oh, the boss says I can’t have anymore.” She giggles, setting h
er glass on the table.
“Really, Samantha? Why did you let her drink that much?”
“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one that’s got her worried she’s going to get fired for being here. She can stay here.”
“I’ll take her home.” I stand and hold my hand out for her. “Time to go.”
“Oh, I’m not supposed to do that.” She points at my outstretched hand. “Mr. Riggins says I’m his, and I’m not allowed to do this. His brother held my hand, and he was mad.”
“Really?” Jase grins. “Tell us more, Sawyer,” he says.
“Mr. Rig—” she starts but stops suddenly when I step around the table and slide my arm around her waist.
“Time to go.”
Her body leans into mine, and I feel my world tilt on its axis, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol. She stares up at me, her eyes glassy. “You smell good.”
Damn this woman. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I miss this, Royce.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask her. We have yet to take a single step toward the door that gets us out of here. My best friends are enjoying this moment too much for my liking.
“Plane Royce. The gentleman who helped me over my fear. He’s nicer than broody CEO Royce.”
“Babe, you want some popcorn?” Jase asks.
I don’t pull my eyes from Sawyer, but I flip Jase the bird. His cackle tells me he got the message. “I’m the same man, Sawyer.”
“Nope. Not the same.” Reaching up, she rests her hand against my cheek. “I missed you.”
Something inside me shifts, and I want nothing more than to kiss the hell out of her. Right here. Right now. Consequences and audience be damned.
“Sawyer, call me,” Sam says, interrupting the moment.
“Girls’ night,” Sawyer replies.
“I’ll be back to get her car tomorrow,” I tell them.
“Drive safe,” Sam says.
“You kids be good. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Jase calls out.
With one arm around Sawyer and my hand on the door, I ignore him while making a mental note to buy their baby a set of drums and every other toy I can find that makes all kinds of noise. Payback’s a bitch.
I manage to get us in my car, but I have no idea where she lives. “Sawyer, can you tell me where you live?”
“Nope. I’m new here.” She’s wasted and cute as hell, and I can’t help but chuckle at her. Now that it’s just the two of us, I couldn’t care less if we drive around all night.
“I’ll be right back.” Climbing out of my car, I go to hers and don’t see a purse or anything that might have her license in it. Jogging to the front door, I knock, and Jase answers. “Did Sawyer bring a purse or anything with her license? I have no idea where she lives.”
“Nope,” he says, popping the p. “Didn’t see anything.”
“Can you ask Sam?”
“She’s already in bed.”
“It’s been maybe five minutes.”
“She’s growing my baby and gets tired easily.”
I don’t argue with him because what do I know about pregnant women? “Fine. I’ll be back in the morning for her car.”
“No rush. It’s fine where it is. Drive safe,” he says as he shuts the door in my face.
Jogging back to my car, I slide back behind the wheel and glance over at Sawyer. She’s sound asleep. I weigh my options. I could call Conrad and have him log into the HR files to get her address. Then I would have to explain why and how I ended up with Sawyer. Not on my top list of things to do tonight. The only other option is to take her to my place. When my brothers hear about this, they are never going to let me live it down.
Glancing over at sleeping beauty, I know what I’m going to do.
My place it is.
Chapter 9
Sawyer
I feel a flutter against my cheek and a hushed whisper telling me to wake up. My eyes slowly blink open to find Royce turned sideways in his seat, his head resting against the headrest, watching me. “There she is,” he says softly as his hand pushes my hair out of my eyes.
“Where am I?”
“We’re sitting in my driveway.”
“Why?”
“Because you were passed out, and I didn’t know where you lived.”
“You could have woken me up.”
“I tried, but you were out of it. You slept the entire way here.”
“How long was that?”
“About twenty minutes.”
“What are we doing now?” My mouth is dry, and I can hear the slow slur to my words with my own ears.
“I was going to carry you inside.”
“That’s breaking the rules.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. His eyes stare intently into mine. “Do you want me to take you home?”
“Are you going to fire me?” What I really want to ask is if I get to sleep in his bed with him. Luckily my drunken tongue kept that question to myself.
“No, Sawyer,” he replies. I love the way my name sounds on his lips, especially when he’s all sweet, and his voice is low and husky.
“I can call a cab.” I move to sit up. My head pounds, but I ignore it. “Where’s my purse?”
“You didn’t have one. I didn’t see it in your car, and Jase said you didn’t come with one.”
“I did. It was sitting next to me on the floor in the living room.”
“Of course it was,” he sighs. “Are you sober enough to tell me where you live?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t really know the city all that well.”
“Give me your address, and we’ll make it happen.”
“You don’t have to. I can call a cab.”
“Sawyer, it’s late. No way am I letting you take a cab home by yourself with you in this current condition.”
“I’ll pay you for gas,” I say because I feel bad. I don’t know how I keep getting myself in these messes. I’m going to lose this job, and then where will that leave me? In a new city, jobless and homeless once my meager savings runs out.
“You’re not paying me for gas.” He grabs his phone from the cupholder. “Address.”
“Before we do that, I… um, I have to pee.” He just grins and shakes his head. I watch as he opens his door and climbs out of the car. I watch his every step as he reaches my door and pulls it open. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly and climb out.
“There is nothing for you to apologize for.” With his hand on the small of my back, he leads me to the front door, and inside his house. “This way,” he says softly.
This Royce, the sweet guy I met on the plane, I’ve missed him. “Thank you,” I say when we stop outside the bathroom door. He reaches in and turns the light on for me.
“I’ll wait right here.” I don’t wait for a reply from him before stepping into the room and closing the door. It’s weird that he’s out there listening, so I turn on the cold water and proceed to empty my bladder. Switching the water from cold to warm, I wash my hands and take a look at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are glassy, but I look like me—just Sawyer. I had once hoped that the sexy man on the plane could be more to me, but fate had other plans.
“Sawyer, you okay?” Royce calls through the door.
Time to face the music, or my boss. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, but this is not who I am. I don’t go getting drunk at dinner parties and end up in my boss’s bathroom in his house. “Yes,” I say, pulling open the door. “Thank you.”
“You ready to go?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Thank you, Royce.”
He nods, places his hand on the small of my back, and guides me back out to his car. I want to tell him that we can stay here. That I’ll curl up next to him in his bed and let his tatted arms wrap around me. That’s what I want to say, but I know that I can’t. He’s already warned me that my behavior looks bad on the company. Besides, I’m the girl who kneed her ex-boss in the balls for coming onto me. I don’t n
eed a sexual harassment case against me. No, what I need is to get my shit together and not lose this job.
“Thank you,” I say politely when he opens my door for me. He doesn’t reply, just waits for me to climb back into his car and buckle in before shutting the door. The drive to my place is quiet. None of the banter like the day we met. Then again, things have changed between us. We’re no longer two strangers sitting next to each other on a flight. He’s my sexy new boss who I can’t stop thinking about.
At least I’m consistent.
Even though I feel sluggish, I’m wide awake, so when Royce reaches for the dash and the low croon of Johnny Cash flows through the speakers, I smile, remembering our conversation about music on the plane.
“Good choice,” I tell him, pointing to the radio. At least I think I am; there are two of them, so I’m not sure.
“I thought you might approve.” He glances over at me, his lips tilting in a grin, and I wish I could kiss them. I wish I could feel the press of them against my own.
“This it?” he asks, pulling into the parking lot for my apartment building.
“Yes, drive around back. It’s the second building.” My voice is soft as I reach for the door handle, saying, “Thank you, Royce.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists.
I don’t have it in me to argue with him, and even if I did have the energy, I wouldn’t want to. We spent four hours together on a plane, and somehow it feels like a piece of me is missing. I see him every day, but he’s not the same person. I’m realizing his layers run deep. I want to peel back each one and observe and memorize everything about him. I wish I could say it’s the wine that’s making me talk this way, but it’s not. It sounds crazy even to me, but that’s the only way I know how to describe it.
Maybe I should look for a new job.
“You’re not getting fired.”
Shit. I said that out loud. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drunk that much. I was nervous, and it was there, and… it was wrong, and I’m sorry that you had to take care of me.”
