Breaking up with My Boss: An Enemies to Lovers, Office Romance (Love You Forever Book 4)

by Alexis Winter

  She rolls her eyes. “No, but this could be considered just as dangerous.”

  “You said I wouldn’t die,” I remind her.

  She laughs. “You’ll be with me. You’ll be fine,” she promises.

  Thirteen

  Poppy

  Matthew has no idea what I have in store for him, and I can see how much that’s getting to him. His back is stiff, he’s jittery, and doesn’t seem to be able to hold a conversation as I drive. He likes to be in control of everything. Today isn’t just about giving him a glimpse of my childhood—it’s also about getting him to relinquish some of that control he feels he always needs to have. I have to admit, though, the boating trip last night was nice.

  Everything about last night was nice. Conversation flowed easily between the two of us. I felt like we made a real connection and I was surprised to see the real him. I’d always thought the side of him I saw at work was the real him, but last night showed me that wasn’t the case. I saw past his control issues, insecurities, and cocky exterior. I saw his life through his eyes. I saw what made him the way he is—the way he thinks he has to be. I saw past all of that and saw a good man with a kind heart . . . he just needs to be coaxed out a bit.

  The weather last night was beautiful. It was a cloudless night with a sky full of stars and a big, bright moon. There was a soft breeze, but not enough to make you cold—just enough to keep you cool. The water was smooth, allowing for an easy drift. And then there was Matthew in a relaxed mood. When his arms enveloped me and he pulled me against his chest as we danced, it was like he sucked the air from my lungs. I was left breathless. When our eyes locked, my heart skipped a beat and my whole body flooded with need. I’m sure it showed in my eyes, and I’m thankful he didn’t notice.

  But now, here we are on our way to a blast from my past. We make the drive out of the city to Rowdy Ronnie’s Extreme Sports. The sign is big, with the letters written in white and covered with paintball splotches.

  He looks over at me, confused. “This is where we’re going?”

  “Mm-hmm, they have the best course for paintball,” I say, parking the car.

  “Paintball? We’re shooting each other with paintball guns?” I’m not sure if he’s upset by this or excited.

  “That’s right. I used to spend every weekend here. I’m a bit of a local legend.” I flash him a smile.

  He laughs but doesn’t seem to believe me—that is, until we walk in and the owner, Ronnie, greets me with open arms. “Ah, the prodigal daughter returns!” He pulls me in for a hug and I can’t help but laugh.

  I pull back. “Ronnie, this is Matthew.”

  “Matt,” he corrects, shaking his hand.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Matt. You must be special to this one here if she’s bringing you around. She’s never brought anyone here.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s because I knew if I brought any of my boyfriends here and kicked their ass at paintball, they’d break up with me. This has always been my little secret. The only people who know I come here are the ones who already come here.”

  Ronnie looks down at me proudly. “Well, you’ll have your work cut out for you today. There’s a new gang running the ship.”

  I look up, all playfulness now gone. “Who are they?” I rush around the counter to view the monitors.

  “Oh, they’re harmless. They’re just a group of high school boys, but they’ve been battling it out with everyone else in the hope of replacing your picture on the wall. I hope you’ve been practicing.”

  I snort as I examine the screens. “I don’t need practice. I’m naturally talented. Let’s get going, Matthew. We have a war to win,” I tell him, grabbing the things Ronnie lets me keep under the counter. I grab my gun and start loading it full of paintballs. Next, I wrap my bandana around my head, making sure I keep my hair out of my face so it won’t distract me. I pull my goggles over my eyes and look at Matthew, who’s still standing there, looking at me with a dumb expression, like he has no idea what world he’s stepped into.

  He’s smirking a bit—like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Are you serious?” he asks as Ronnie starts handing him gear.

  “Like a heart attack. I can’t let those kids take my title. I’m the queen around here.”

  He pulls his goggles over his eyes. “You know, queens usually have armies that handle the fighting for her, plus evil henchmen to do her bidding.”

  “Not this queen. This queen isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Locked and loaded?” I ask.

  He looks down at his gun. “I guess. I don’t even know how to work this thing,” he says, turning it in all different directions.

  I let out a long breath. Of course he doesn’t. His prissy ass probably never got to do this shit growing up. He was too busy sailing yachts and taking golf lessons. I give him a quick rundown on how to operate the gun, then before we push through the door, I tell him the rules.

  “Okay, look, there are already six people out there. Four of them are together. So we’ll take out the team of two, then we’ll cover each other to take out the larger team. If you get hit in the kill zone, you’re done and you have to leave the course. So aim for the chest or stomach, got it? Don’t fuck around with an arm or a leg. Let’s go!”

  I push through the door and enter the course. I dart to my right, where I know there’s a trail all the way around the course. The course is mostly constructed of wood, with different areas cut out so you can snake through them or shoot out of them. It’s basically a big maze. There are many ways in and out, but all eventually lead to the center. Once you’re in the center, you’re trapped.

  I could tell from watching the monitors that the big team of four likes to keep closer to the center, sending out a guard or two at a time to do a sweep. The team of two was doing what I’m doing now—snaking around the course hoping to finding someone unguarded. There’s a 90-degree angle up ahead. Someone in a hurry rushes around the corner. By the time he sees me, I’ve already shot off three paintballs—all of them hitting him in the gut.

  “Damn it,” he breathes out, looking at the neon pink paint. I’m the only one who has pink paint. The rest are red, blue, yellow, and green. Ronnie keeps it that way for teams. But I’m the queen and pink is my color. Everyone who walks out of here in pink knows they’ve been taken down by the queen.

  After checking the color of paint on his shirt, he looks up in awe. “You’re her, aren’t you?” he asks, eyes wide with disbelief.

  I give him a quick nod with a smirk as I pass him by, leaving him behind us.

  “I guess you weren’t joking about being famous here, huh?” Matthew says from behind me.

  “Shh, you’ll give away our location,” I whisper-yell back to him.

  “You take this way too seriously, you know that?” he replies.

  I stop and turn around. “This is serious! This is my reputation we’re protecting. Keep it down or I’ll take you out myself.”

  He smirks. “What if I take you out?”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I threaten, giving him the most serious look I can muster.

  His grin doesn’t fade but he shrugs one shoulder.

  I turn back around and make my way to the left, taking another trail around to the center.

  “So, can people climb in here? Do I need to be looking up?”

  “Some do since it’s not considered illegal, so just be aware,” I tell him, pushing on. When I round another corner, I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. Someone is following us. I get to the end of the path and drop down on my belly, pushing Matthew back behind the next corner. The guy comes around the corner quickly, but he doesn’t look down. I take my shot and it hits him square in the chest.

  “Fuck,” he says, not really seeming to care. He looks down at me as I’m getting to my feet. “You’re better than I thought you’d be.”

  I send him a flirty smile. “Don’t underestimate the queen. Buh-bye.” I wave sweetly before rushing past Matthew t
o lead the way.

  We’re getting closer to the center now, and I can hear the boys. They’re just hanging out and talking, thinking they’re hot shit because they haven’t been taken out yet.

  “It’s time for the next round. There are only two people left out there. Find them,” the leader says.

  I hear the heavy footsteps of the two guys being sent out. I lean closer to Matthew. “Go after them,” I whisper.

  “And leave you here to take out the leader? Not a chance.”

  Ugh. “I don’t need your protection right now.”

  “No, but I need yours,” he argues.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head, but lead us forward. I skip over the path that leads to the center, wanting to go after the two roaming guys first so there won’t be any surprises later. As I turn the first corner, I see just a leg as one of them steps back behind a wall. I don’t know if he kept moving or if he’s waiting, knowing that we’re on his trail, so I proceed with caution. I pause momentarily, listening for retreating footsteps, but there’s nothing. It’s so quiet I can still hear the other two in the center. He’s waiting for us.

  I know if I step around that corner, he’ll fire. Even if I’m low, he’ll hit Matthew in the chest and he’ll be out. I need to figure out a way to keep him safe. There’s a small circular cutout halfway up the wall. “Boost me up,” I whisper so quietly I’m not even sure if he can hear me, but he must have, because he releases his gun, letting it hang over his shoulder as he picks me up. I grab the small hole and heave myself up higher, able to grab the top of the wall. I stick my foot in the hole, pushing myself up to the top, then shimmy my way over to the corner.

  I motion for Matthew to shoot and he does, his paintball hitting the wall. It makes the kid I’m watching from above jump, and when he jumps, he steps away from the wall slightly, giving me just enough room to shoot him in the back. He spins around, surprised, but he doesn’t know where the shot came from. He looks both ways, spinning in a circle. Finally, he looks up and I shoot him in the chest.

  “Dammit,” he breathes out, wiping his hand over the pink paint.

  “Leave now and warn no one,” I tell him, hopping down from the wall that’s roughly seven feet high.

  Matthew walks around the corner just as the kid is leaving. “That was awesome!”

  “Shh, we still have three more.”

  Almost on cue, another one comes around the corner to complete his rounds. Matthew is quick and spins around, firing off a shot. It lands perfectly in the center of the kid’s stomach.

  “Yes! Did you see that?” he cheers himself on.

  I smile wide, suddenly filled with pride. “I did. Good job!” I high-five him and we both stand, watching the kid retreat.

  We make our way back to the center and I hear the two remaining kids. “They’ve been gone a while. Should we go check on them?”

  There’s a long pause while the other kid considers this. “Yeah, I guess so. You go left and I go right?” I hear one of them say.

  I quickly dart forward and round the corner, waving for Matthew to step back around the other. He does so and I know we’ve got them.

  “All right. Let’s go. We need to finish up. I’ve got homework tonight,” the other says.

  Moments later, he rounds the corner and I let off a shot. But so does he. We’re both quick, but I’m a better shot, because mine hits his stomach while his grazed my arm. At almost the same time, I hear two more shots being fired. The kid and I rush around to see who was hit. His teammate turns to face us, and he has a big blue paint splat on his chest, right over his heart.

  “He got me, man,” the kid whines.

  “She got me too,” the other kid adds on.

  “And that, boys, is why your picture won’t be on my wall,” I say, skipping past them and grabbing Matthew’s hand as I pass.

  The two of us walk back into the little shop, where Ronnie’s been watching everything. The moment we do, Ronnie comes rushing over to us. “That was awesome, Poppy! God, I’ve missed you around here.” He hugs me closely.

  I hug him back. “Well, my teammate came through.” I pull away and turn back to look at Matthew, who’s standing there looking just as proud as I feel.

  “I have a few people who would like a picture with you if you have time.”

  I smile up at Matthew. “Of course I have time for pictures,” I say. “But no autographs,” I add on, sounding much more serious.

  Ronnie laughs. “All right. Come on, boys!” he calls to them. They walk out from the changing rooms, now out of their gear.

  “That was so awesome!” one says.

  “You really are a badass,” another adds on as we all line up for a picture.

  Ronnie snaps it and hands the phone over to the guys.

  “Nice playing with you, boys, but never forget who the queen is.” I smile and wave as they walk out.

  Fourteen

  Matthew

  Watching her dominate the paintball match was like watching an action movie starring Scarlett Johansson. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been shooting at people mid-cartwheel. She was amazing to watch and I’m glad I didn’t drag her down. I actually shot a couple of people and made her proud. I can see it when I look into her eyes, which seem to be growing darker.

  On our walk back to the car, I bump her shoulder with mine. “You were really good in there.”

  She smirks. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

  “Nah, I’m nothing compared to you. You really have your strategy down. Remind me to be on your side if a zombie apocalypse or the purge ever breaks out. I have a feeling you’d be prepared.”

  She laughs. “Only if the weapons being used are paintball guns. I know nothing when it comes to real guns.”

  This time, I climb behind the wheel and she takes the passenger seat. “That was really fun,” I tell her, starting the car and pulling my seatbelt across my chest. “What else did you do growing up?”

  She shrugs. “Lots of stuff. Skating, camping, muddin’.”

  “What’s mudding?”

  She looks over at me in surprise. “You’ve never been muddin’?”

  I laugh. “Sorry, muddin’. And nope, I guess not. What is it?”

  “It’s where you go out in the woods on a four-wheeler. You ride trails, go through mud holes . . . essentially just play in the mud.” She shrugs.

  “I’ve never even been on an ATV.”

  “What?” She seems really surprised, if not offended.

  “I’m sorry. I was a prissy boy. I wasn’t allowed to get dirty.”

  “Well, we’ll have to fix that.”

  “You can show me how to drive one of those things?”

  “Yeah, it’s easy,” she says, waving her hand through the air.

  “It’s a date then. I’ll arrange to get us some ATVs and you’ll teach me.”

  She smiles. “I’ll be there,” she promises, not contesting the fact that I called it a date.

  I drive us back to the apartment and we both go to our rooms to shower. When we emerge, we’re both fresh and clean and our clothes have already been laundered.

  “Hey, want to go out for dinner tonight?” I ask, sick of being in the house.

  “Sure, what’d you have in mind?”

  I shrug. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Hmm,” she mumbles, thinking it over. “Honestly, I’m kind of beat from running around all day. Why don’t we order a pizza, put our pajamas on, and find a movie? Date night in?” She raises an eyebrow.

  The moment I hear date night, I can’t turn it down. “All right,” I reply, grabbing my phone from my pocket. “Any requests for pizza toppings?”

  “Everything. Oh, and some breadsticks too. I’m going to go change.” She rushes out of the room and I Google local pizza places since I never order delivery. I call the first one on the list with the best reviews and place my order: one large pizza with almost everything and an order of breadsticks. After the cal
l is placed, I go to my room to change out of my jeans and sweater.

  I pull on a pair of silk pajama bottoms and a black T-shirt. I slip my feet into my house shoes and walk back into the living room to find her on the couch, remote in hand. I freeze, and that makes her freeze.

  “Did you want to pick the movie?” she asks, probably thinking that’s why I’m frozen in place, but it has nothing to do with the movie. I’m frozen because she picked the shortest shorts known to man. In fact, they may not be shorts at all. They’re more like boyshort underwear. On top, she’s wearing a black tank top that ends above her belly button. The straps over her shoulders look so thin that I’m pretty sure I could break them simply by touching them. And she isn’t wearing a bra. I can see the hardness of her nipples through the thin cotton shirt.

  I flex my jaw and push myself forward. “No, go ahead,” I tell her, taking my seat on the couch at her side and grabbing a pillow to put over my lap so she doesn’t see how excited I am to be this close to her. Jesus, I feel like I’m in middle school.

  She settles on some horror movie and I’m secretly hoping she gets scared. I can see her leaping into my arms, our eyes connecting and drawing us closer . . . finally leading to that kiss I’ve been thinking about nonstop. I’m sure if this were a movie, that’s probably how it would play out. But after seeing her take on all those kids today by herself, I’m sure she isn’t afraid of anything. We’re only about 20 minutes into the movie when the doorbell rings. I go to retrieve the pizza. I slip him some cash and go back to the couch, setting the food on the coffee table in front of us. She gets up and grabs some water, plates, and napkins. We both dig in while keeping our attention on the movie.

  I find myself watching her more than the actual movie though. I can’t help myself. She’s far more interesting than any movie on TV. I find it cute how she watches so wide-eyed, like she can’t tear her eyes from the screen. When the music gets quiet and the screen goes dark, she worries her bottom lip. When the killer jumps out, she grabs a blanket off the back of the couch and uses it as a shield. It’s draped over her body, but she holds the edge up closer to her face, hiding her emotions.