“Yeah, stolen. At the gym.” She nods and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Right from my bag, if you can believe it.”
“I can’t actually.”
“What some people do, right?” The laugh that falls from her lips sounds strained.
“What gym?” I press.
My mom has been watching the verbal volley between us with narrowed eyes, but at my last question, she finally steps in. “What gy—honestly, Adam, why does it matter? Let the poor girl get her gloves.” She turns her attention to Paige. “I’m so sorry about him. Talking to gorgeous girls doesn’t usually affect him this much. Must be just you,” she finishes with a wink. Then she turns to walk away and says, “I’ll make the salad. You need your veggies, too.”
Paige waits until my mom is out of sight, then says, “You talk to a lot of gorgeous girls in here, do you?”
It takes me a while to figure out where she’s going with this, and then I remember my mom’s comment. I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Aw, pookie, it sounds an awful lot like you’re jealous.”
She sputters. “Hah! Jealous. Pfft. Like I would be jealous. I’m not jealous. I don’t even know what it feels like to be jealous, that’s how often I get jealous. Which is never.”
“Pretty sure it’s whatever you’re feeling right now.”
Glaring at me, she holds out her hand. “Give me my other glove.”
Instead of handing it over, I lean closer and listen with satisfaction as her breathing hitches. “Why’d you really come here, bunny? We both know you’ve got a pair of gloves at home—probably a couple if you go as often as I think you do.” Cocking my head to the side, I can’t keep the satisfaction out of my voice when I ask, “Did you come here to see me?”
She scoffs. “What? No. Why would I do that? If I wanted to see you, I could just wait until you got home. Which I don’t. Want to see you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Whatever. You’re being very rude to your customer. I’m trying to spend money here. On gloves. That I don’t have.” She snatches the box out of my hand, then waves it in front of my face. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go pay for these.” She spins around and walks to the cash register, and I’m left standing here, this time not able to do anything about the smile that overtakes my face.
This might not take as long as I thought.
EIGHTEEN
paige
I slam my hand down on the stapler harder than necessary, then snatch the packet of paper away and stack it on top of all the others, before repeating it all over again. I’ve been doing this for the past twenty minutes, and even though my hand aches from the abuse, the aggression still isn’t doing anything to calm me down. I’ve been wired, edgy, ever since yesterday after work. Actually, if I’m going to be honest, I’ve been like that since Monday night, when Adam kissed the ever-loving shit out of me and then…just…just…turned around and walked away. Just left me there. Wanting.
Clever little bastard.
I know what he’s doing. Thinking that if he makes me crave him enough, I’ll give in to the not-so-subtle hints he’s given me that he wants us to hook up while he’s here for the summer. And the really awful part is that I’ve actually been…considering it. But it’s just hooking up; it doesn’t mean I have to change my life for him. Would it really be that bad? Having someone like Adam at my beck and call sexually while at the same time hanging out with a pretty awesome guy and participating in activities I normally have no problem doing solo—both in and out of the bedroom?
It’s like I don’t even know myself anymore.
Going last night and seeing him and his stupid smug face at the shop—that, yes, I totally knew was his parents’, sue me—and hearing his stupid smug voice, that wired, edgy feeling that’s been choking me has morphed into irritation and frustration. Sexual frustration. B.O.B. isn’t even working for me anymore. Which brings me here, to beating up a defenseless stapler while at work. Whatever. It totally had it coming.
A few people walk past, coughing not-so-subtly in my direction as I pound away at the stapler, but no one’s been dumb enough to approach me. That is, until I hear the scrape of a chair and glance up in time to see Jared, a newer cop, flip it around and sit down, his arms folded over the back.
“Hey, Paige.”
I grunt out a greeting, barely looking at him as I slam my hand on the stapler again.
“Whoa, what’d that stapler ever do to you?” he asks with a chuckle.
While all I want to do is level him with a glare, maybe hiss at him to get the hell out of here and let me be a brat all by myself, I know I can’t. This is my place of business now. And, yeah, I’m just here for an internship, as so many people have pointed out, but it’s so much more than that. There are two other interns who are working in this department, all of us vying for the single open position available at the end of the summer, and neither of them are doing jack. They might as well be jerking off all day for all the good they’re doing while they’re here.
I snort when I think about how much good I’m actually doing while stapling these packets together. Heaps, Paige. Lifting my eyes to Jared, I take a deep breath. “Sorry. Just a bad day.”
He shrugs. “Understandable. We all have those.” He braces his feet in front of him and leans forward, bringing the chair to rest on only two legs. I hate when guys do that. “Maybe I could do something about that. Let me take you out for dinner tonight.”
I smile but shake my head and grab another stack of papers, gently stapling them. Which is not at all satisfying. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not going to be very good company.”
“Friday, then. Or Saturday. Or next week.”
Something in the tone of his voice has me looking up. He’s still leaning toward me in his chair and has a hopeful look on his face. Hold the phone. Flirty smile? Check. Open body language? Check. Blatant freakin’ come-on? Check, check, check. Holy hell, am I so far off my game that I don’t even realize when someone asks me out on a date anymore?
“Like, a date?”
He laughs, but it sounds uncomfortable, and runs a hand through his hair. “That’s what I was hoping, yeah.”
I look at him—scrutinize him, really. He’s good looking, I guess, if you go for that well-put-together-without-looking-like-they’re-trying vibe. He’s got longish light brown hair that I’d normally think about gripping in my fingers while moving his head how I want it when we kiss. His eyes are a dark, chocolate brown, and by this time, I should be thinking about what they’d look like peeking up at me from between my legs.
Problem is, I’m not.
He’s got a nice body and he’s tall. Not super tall, from what I remember, but taller than me, even when I wear heels. He smiles when he realizes I’m checking him out, and a dimple pops out. A freakin’ dimple. And yet…nothing. There is absolutely zero interest on my end. All my relevant lady parts might as well be in hibernation for all the attraction they’re showing. In fact, I think there might be negative attraction, because the thought of going out with this guy puts a boulder in my stomach. Especially when I think about how Adam would look if he saw Jared picking me up for a date.
Goddamn Adam.
This is all his fault. Him and his stupid voice and those rough hands and his perfect mouth and that kiss. God, how have I never been kissed like that before? More importantly, how did I go this long not even realizing he and I hadn’t yet? But I know why. Because sex isn’t intimate for me. It’s rough and sweaty and satisfying, but I never want to cuddle afterward and press a sleepy kiss to the guy’s lips before I pass out. Sure, sometimes I make out with a guy before we sleep together, but other times…not so much.
But now…now all I can think about is how Adam rocked my world that night in December, and that was without his kiss. The same kiss that made me hustle into my room and fumble on my nightstand—let’s be real, it’s a waste of time to even put B.O.B. in a drawer at this point—and then go to town on myself, imagining the e
ntire time it was Adam who was getting me off.
He must’ve drugged me. That’s the only logical explanation. Just slipped something into my mouth along with his tongue. Something that makes me think about him nonstop. About that kiss and his body pressed against mine, his cock hard and insistent against my stomach, and I want it lower, lower, lower, until he’s so deep inside me, I can’t remember where I end and he begins.
Jared’s grin widens when he notices my parted lips and my, no doubt, flushed face, probably assuming it’s all because I was checking him out. At least he has a healthy dose of self-esteem. Still…it’s not going to happen.
Shaking my head, I straighten another set of papers before stapling them. “I’m sorry, Jared, but I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
“Aw, come on. We’d have fun.”
“I’m sure we would, but if it’s a date, the answer is still no. I don’t date people I work with.”
He laughs like what I said was the funniest thing in the world, but the sound trails off when he realizes I’m not kidding. “But you don’t even work here. Not really.”
“No? What am I doing now?” I wave the packets in his face and withhold a cringe, because, yeah, stapling papers in a police station is such important work.
“Come on, you can’t be serious. You’re an intern. And the internship is only for another two months, anyway. Then you’re gone.”
His absolutely certainty that I won’t be the one to get the job at the end of this shouldn’t sting, but it does. I don’t know why I’m surprised. For the most part, the people here have been tolerable. No doubt a great deal of that friendliness is the fact that Tanner is my brother, and if you fuck with me, you fuck with him. Even with that silent threat, I’m sure there’s office cooler talk that I’m not privy to. Jared just proved that. He’s been friendly to me since my first day…too bad it took me so long to realize he wasn’t doing it because he thought I could do the job. He was doing it because I’m just another pretty face, another perky ass. Looks like I get to add one more fucker to the list of people who’ve underestimated me.
I shift toward him, hooking my finger over the back of the chair he’s still leaning forward on two legs. “I plan on being here for a long time, and even if I weren’t”—I apply pressure to the chair and watch with satisfaction as he scrambles to his feet to avoid falling on his ass—“I don’t date condescending assholes. How’s that?”
His handsome face twists with an ugly sneer. “Whatever. You never would’ve gotten this internship if it weren’t for Tanner. Not to mention”—he gestures to my general proximity—“all this.”
I’m going to assume he means because I’m a living, breathing human being, and not just one with tits and a nice ass. “Well, this has been fun. Good luck getting a date.” I take the stacks of papers I’ve just finished and walk away.
So far, I’ve been satisfied sitting back and letting everyone settle in, but I’m done. No more tiptoeing around and not pushing to get my hands a little dirty. I’m done being underestimated.
And if I want the single job they’re offering at the end of this internship, I need to step up my game and show everyone I’m in for the long haul. And I deserve to be here as much as—more than—anyone else.
when tessa shows up at my apartment, letting herself in after my text instructing her to do so, she tosses her purse on the counter and marches over to where I am. She plops down on the couch, crosses her legs, and tucks a throw pillow in her lap. “Okay, what’s up with the emergency girls’ session? I had to promise Jason some pretty dirty things to get out of our family night. He got roped into a tea party with Haley instead.”
I blow out a heavy sigh and turn my head to look at her from where I’m sprawled out. “I think the saddest part of this whole situation is that I don’t even care to know what those dirty things are.”
Tessa’s eyes go exaggeratedly wide. “Oh my God. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” She reaches out and clutches my shoulders, shaking me while fake crying. “Where’s Paige?”
I swat her hands away, then reach for another handful of caramel popcorn—which I don’t even like, if that tells you how far I’ve sunk in my pity party. What I wanted was a caramel/cheese mixture, just like the kind Cade got me hooked on when Tessa and I visited him in Chicago last year. Well, they don’t sell the Chicago Mix in freakin’ Michigan, so I’m stuck with this second-rate bullshit, and I’m pretty butthurt about it. I shove the not-Chicago Mix in my mouth and speak around a grotesque amount of food. “Oh, you’re hilarious. I’m broken and you think it’s funny.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “You’re not broken. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
“Well, it all started about seven years ago when I moved here and met you…”
“Me? I’m the root of the problem?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. If I hadn’t moved here, we wouldn’t have met. If we hadn’t met, I wouldn’t have eventually met Adam and therefore my life wouldn’t exist in this weird alternate universe right now where I care about things like how many gorgeous girls Adam talks to and I turn down hot—albeit douchey—guys who ask me out on a date because all I can think about are brief, and—all things considered—pretty freakin’ PG kisses against my front door.”
Tessa is quiet for a minute, her mouth opening and closing. “I…don’t even know where to start.”
“How about we start with figuring out how to fix me? Fix me, Tess.”
She reaches out and takes a handful of popcorn, eating her pile one kernel at a time. I mean, honestly, who does that? “Okay, let’s rewind…someone asked you out on a date?”
I make a disgusted noise in my throat and shovel more caramel corn in—inhaling it the way you’re supposed to. “Yes. Did I ever mention Jared to you? One of the newer cops who’s been to headquarters a few times?”
“I don’t think so.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about! This guy is hot, Tess. Like, fap fodder hot, and I didn’t even tell you about him, because I didn’t notice.”
“Honey, you need to focus. Hot guy asked you out. And you said no…” she trails off, gesturing for me to continue.
“Yes, I said no. And the thing is, I said no even before he turned into an epic douche who was only being nice to me because of my tits. And do you know why I turned him down?”
“No, but it’d be awesome if you could tell me so I can stop feeling like you’re speaking Hungarian.”
“Because of Adam. Sweet, gorgeous, funny, adventurous…irritating, frustrating, jerkface Adam!”
“Whoa, dude, no need to scream in my face. I’m not Adam.”
I throw myself back on the couch and mumble, “Sorry,” around another mouthful of food.
“And what’s this about Adam talking to gorgeous girls? He did that in front of you?” Tessa’s eyebrows are drawn down, like the very thought of perfect Adam doing anything so assholish is preposterous. And the thing is…she’s right.
“I went to Reid Sporting Goods the other day to get some rappelling gloves.”
“Didn’t you just get new gloves last month?”
“Whatever, I do what I want! God, why is everyone hung up on that? A girl can have more than one pair of gloves, okay?”
Tessa reaches over and flicks me right in the forehead. “Stop yelling at me and continue with your story.”
“Sorry,” I say. Again. Par for the course when I get worked up about anything. I bitch. Tessa flicks. I apologize. Lather, rinse, repeat. “Anyway, I was at the shop, and Adam totally knew I just went to see him and he was, like, grilling me about it, you know? Just waiting for me to crack and spill my guts and admit I was there just for him. And then his mom came over and witnessed it and said something to the effect of, ‘Sorry he’s acting like this. He can normally talk to gorgeous girls just fine,’ and then…I don’t even know what happened. I asked him if he talked to a lot of girls there and he smiled that smug-ass smile and a
sked me if I was jealous and then I acted like an idiot and paid for another pair of the exact gloves I already own and left. And I’ve been avoiding him since then because I’m afraid I’m going to climb right up his delicious body the first chance I get.”
She’s quiet as she eats another single kernel of popcorn. Then, “Well, I’ve gotta hand it to you. You don’t do anything halfway.”
“Not helping.”
“Okay, okay. Do you remember when I started having all those feelings for Jason, and you sat me down and told me to buck up and try something new?”
“Yeah.”
“Would it be so bad if you tried something new with Adam?”
My spine straightens. “I don’t do relationships, Tess, you know that.”
“I didn’t say it had to be a relationship. No one is suggesting you plan your life around Adam like you did with Bry—”
I hold up a hand to cut her off. “I’m mad enough. Probably not a great idea to discuss him right now.”
“I’m just saying…it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. What’s wrong with a little extended between-the-sheets time with two consenting adults?”
I stare at her like she’s grown another head. “You’re seriously suggesting I engage in an on-going friends-with-benefits situation with your brother’s best friend?”
“Apparently, yes.” She leans forward to grab another handful of popcorn. “Look, there’s obviously something there between you two. Everyone saw it the other night at the house, me included. Stop thinking so much and just go with it.”
She’s right. I have been overthinking everything with him, which is so far off my usual M.O. it’s not even funny. I think the problem lies in the fact that even though I’ve been with my share of guys, I’ve never had to think about any of them. They were just…there. To waste some time with. To satisfy an itch.
Paige in Progress (Reluctant Hearts #3) Page 13
