I was also worried because I had no idea what the fuck Benji was going to do.
He hadn’t said a word about the attack. Unlike the others in the office. They’d been carefully quiet about it, only murmuring to each other. I didn’t think anyone thought anyone in the office had done it, but it still felt as if we were all scared to mention it.
Could it happen to them? Or was someone out to get Paris?
Or maybe I was wrong, and they were all talking about it behind my back in louder tones. That could well be the case.
I would’ve thought they would talk to me to figure out what I knew. The others at the branch hadn’t done that, but that meant I didn’t know what they all likely thought. I was only a visitor in their world, after all. My time with the branch was short, and then I would move on back to my old office, most likely with a promotion if things worked out well with the project.
And I would no longer be working daily with Paris.
I didn’t want to think about what that meant because once I wasn’t working with her anymore, maybe we could start something.
“Fuck.” I bashed my knee into the cabinet as I got out of the shower.
I did not need to think about that. I would not be dating Paris. No matter what. There were rules. We were friends. Nothing more.
Now that the idea was in my mind, I didn’t know what to think.
Nate was gone by the time I came out of my room, ready for work. Nate only had to get dressed in his casual clothes since he wasn’t working today, but I had to put on my tie and everything.
There was a note by the coffee maker, and my travel mug filled to the brim with steaming brew.
Say hi to Paris for me.
I grinned at his note, picked up my coffee, and made my way to my car.
I would act natural.
Act as if nothing had happened. Maybe that was wrong. And I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to do that, but Paris would make it through this and come out the other side as strong as ever. She was going to be okay, and me focusing on it would make it difficult for both of us. So, I would follow her lead and bring it up only if she wanted to talk.
I hoped.
I pulled into the parking lot, my hands fisting on the steering wheel as I did.
Paris wasn’t here yet, but I parked where I normally did, not sure if she would park close to her old spot where the attack had happened, or pick a new one. It didn’t matter, though, because I would be walking her to her car.
So, apparently, I wasn’t going to act as if nothing had happened.
Even though there were now cameras in the parking lot, the new technology wouldn’t protect Paris if someone came at her again.
I was not going to react the same as I had before the attack. I was going to do my best to make sure she was safe.
And deal with her yelling and the other frustrating consequences.
I got to my office without seeing anybody, grateful because I wasn’t in the mood to chat.
Anxiety and stress filled my gut, and I hated it.
I just needed to focus on work, and when the time came, see what Paris wanted to do. There wasn’t much else I could do.
When everyone started showing up for work, the buzz in the office was different, and I knew they were all waiting for Paris to come in.
Hell, she was going to hate arriving to find this. She would want to do her best to not be the center of attention, and it was going to be the exact opposite of that.
When people started talking a little louder, and I could tell they were in groups, I stood up from my desk and walked out to the hallway, doing my best to act nonchalant.
I was failing like everyone else.
The elevator dinged, and Paris walked onto the floor, her chin held high, and a scarf around her neck. I knew it was to cover the bruises. I had seen the red marks when I picked her up from the gravel, trying to see if she was awake and alive.
She didn’t smile at anyone but gave them nods, and nobody came up to her, but they did look a little scared as if they didn’t know what to do.
Well, they weren’t alone in that.
Benji was nowhere to be seen, and I was grateful for that.
I leaned against my door, waiting for her to pass. When she did, she gave me a small smile and went straight to her office.
When she didn’t close the door behind her, everybody was quiet, staring at me, and I shrugged, knowing I would have to be the one to break the ice.
Nobody knew what to do here, and by the looks on their faces, most of them wanted to say something to reassure her. Nobody seemed malicious or mean, at least.
I would do something. Because while nobody seemed mean, they also looked as if they wanted to help and had no idea how to do it.
Maybe for someone else, they’d have made coffee or gotten her breakfast or gone to hug her.
But this was Paris.
And she was a little prickly.
I was used to that.
So I pulled myself from my office and made the trek to hers.
I stood in the doorway, my hands in my pockets, and stared at her as she stood in front of her desk, her shoulders rising as she took deep breaths.
“Hey,” I said.
She whirled around, her eyes wide, and dropped her briefcase.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, then took three steps towards her, my hands outstretched. I didn’t touch her, and I was grateful I didn’t because she flinched.
That reaction sent rage through me, and I wanted to hurt someone. I wanted to scream. I didn’t. Thankfully, I knew that nobody was looking inside the room, because they wouldn’t dare.
I also didn’t close the door because I didn’t want to have any more attention focused on this than there already was. I was already fucking things up.
“Sorry. You startled me.”
“I should’ve knocked instead of walking right in.” I let out a breath.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
We were both kneeling now, picking up the papers that had fallen out of her briefcase. I looked at her, at the dark circles under her eyes, even if they had been carefully covered with concealer. I wanted to punch someone.
“I’m glad you’re back,” I said, the only thing I could say just then.
Surprise covered her face for an instant, and then she smiled. That Paris smile that I loved. The one that wasn’t the icy façade that she shrouded herself in to be strong.
No, it was the smile that she showed her friends when no one else was looking.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen that expression directed at me before.
“I’m glad I’m back, too. I want normal. Although I don’t know if it can be that way when it comes to this office.”
“You have a bunch of socially inept people who don’t know how to talk to one another, trying to figure out how to help you.”
“I know. I just hate being the center of attention.”
We both stood up, and I handed her the rest of her papers, careful not to touch her.
“You know if they knew what to do, you would have muffins or scones or coffee or something on your desk.”
“They sent flowers and cards.”
“I know,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets again.
“The people here can be kind. At least, most of them.”
“He’s not here today,” I said softly.
Her shoulders fell, but it was more like a balloon with air being released, more from tension than disappointment.
“That’s good. I didn’t want to deal with him.”
“Me, either.”
“And I can’t believe I said that.”
“You’re allowed to say it. Anyway, you’re the one who sets the tone so that you can act normal, and people will eventually act normal, as well. Or you can talk about it. It’s up to you, but we’re here, no matter what.”
I didn’t mean to become the spokesman for a company that I wasn’t going to be with long, b
ut here I was.
“Thanks, Prior.” She let out a breath, and I steeled myself because I had no idea what she was going to say next. “Can we go out for a drink after this?” she asked. “Well, more like coffee or something since I shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”
“Are you okay?” I asked quickly, worry filling me.
“I’m fine. I’m just on concussion protocol, and I shouldn’t add booze to my system. Even though I should be able to drink again soon.”
“Oh, that’s good,” I said awkwardly.
“I could use a martini.”
“A martini sounds great,” I said, even though it was only eight in the morning.
She laughed then, and I laughed with her.
“Anyway, if you’re too busy, or if you have a date with Allison or something, no worries. I just figured, well…anyway.”
“Allison and I broke up,” I said quickly, not sure why I’d brought it up.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh?” she asked, her throat working as she swallowed hard.
“It’s over. I’ll tell you what happened later. If you want.” I let out a breath. “Anyway, it’s not a big deal. We can get coffee or a smoothie or something after work.”
“Or, I don’t know, I want a place where I can say thank you without feeling awkward. And I think that, no matter what, it’s going to be awkward.”
I froze, not knowing what to say.
“Seriously. Thank you. I have no idea what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. And I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about any of it ever again. However, I figured I at least owed you a drink.”
“We can do that. And maybe another time if you’re going to be too tired after today.” I said that quickly and winced.
“You know, you’re right,” she said with a laugh, surprising me. “As soon as I said it, I was a little worried because I just want to go home and go to bed.”
I shook my head. “Let’s raincheck then.”
I looked at her, wondering what the fuck I was doing. I had no idea what was going on in my brain, but what I did know was that whatever path my mind wanted to go down wasn’t the right path for me. And it sure as fuck wasn’t the right path for her.
“Raincheck it is. Thank you. Seriously. And one day, maybe I’ll want to talk about it some more, but not right now. I want to go to work. I want to look at details, and I want to tell you that you’re wrong a lot,” she said with a laugh, and I snorted.
“Now that is the Paris we missed.”
“Damn straight,” she said, and then we were silent, looking at each other, the quiet filling the room. I swallowed hard before lifting my chin and walking out.
And I knew that no matter what happened next, we needed to be careful.
Because I could not fuck up my friendship with her, however tentative and weird it was.
She had been through enough, and I didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already was.
As I made my way to my office, I knew that my mind wasn’t going to let it rest.
The word complicated was only the beginning.
Chapter 10
Paris
I licked my lips and prowled across the room. Prior sat on the couch, his legs spread, his jeans unzipped. He rubbed himself over the cotton of his boxer briefs, staring at me, his mouth parted, his eyes dark.
All I wore were high heels that I didn’t even remember buying, tiny lace panties that barely covered anything, and a smile.
Or perhaps it was a smirk.
My breasts swayed with each movement I made, my hips sashaying just as hard.
I kept moving, one step at a time.
And then I was on my knees in front of him, his hand pulling at my hair as I gripped the base of him, his large cock too big for my hands, the tip of it grazing my lips.
“Suck it, Paris.”
“Is that an order? I thought I was the one who told you what to do.”
“Open.”
I opened, and he slid his cock between my lips. I gasped, swallowing him whole as his dick touched the back of my throat. I nearly gagged but relaxed my muscles to take more of him in, and then he was pulling at my hair so hard that it almost hurt. Only I couldn’t feel a thing.
Odd.
He fucked my mouth, lifting his hips off the couch as I dug my nails into his thighs and then removed one hand so I could grip his balls, playing with him, kneading him, trying to touch every bit of him.
And then I took a deep breath and was bent over the couch, his cock sliding in, hard and deep as he thrust into me, his dick warm and thick and stretching me. He had his hands in my hair, tugging again, and then they were on my hips, my breasts, pinching and plucking and sending me right over the edge.
And then I was on my back, the gravel digging into my skin, blood trickling from little cuts all over my body. Prior was above me, thrusting inside of me, and then he wasn’t there. Instead, there was someone else, someone in the shadows, their hands around my throat. I woke up with a scream, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
My hands were between my legs, and I grimaced, pulling them away, noticing how wet I was.
Great, I had gotten myself off in my dreams, thinking about Prior of all people, and had somehow ended it all with a twist that I did not want to think about.
I wasn’t afraid of Prior. Far from it. My brain wanted to mix things up to the point that I felt sick.
I still didn’t know who had hurt me, and I didn’t like that that was what I was thinking about right then.
It’d ruined a perfectly good sex dream.
A fantasy so real, my thighs ached from it.
I wanted to go back to it and remember what he’d felt like when he was inside of me.
Then I shook myself out of that thought and cursed.
“I do not want to fuck Prior Brady.”
If I said those words enough, maybe I would get it through my skull that fucking Prior would be a bad thing.
I let out a breath and then rolled out of bed, tugging my sheets off the mattress. I would wash them and get the smell of sex out of my room since I could practically taste Prior on my lips.
No, that would not be happening.
Just because I had a slight attraction to the man, didn’t mean I needed to fuck him. It would be too complicated.
I was going to find another date so I could get over him, even though I had told myself I wouldn’t go on another date.
Well, that was clearly going to be thrown out the window. The girls would have to find me someone. Someone who wasn’t Prior.
Because we worked together.
At least, for the time being. Though his time with my branch of the company was coming to an end. Soon, he would leave, and that obstacle would no longer be in the way.
There would be plenty of other obstacles, though.
Namely the fact that we didn’t always like each other. And even though he didn’t have a girlfriend now, he had only recently gotten out of a semi-serious relationship.
Not that he seemed too broken up about it.
It wasn’t my place to judge. I didn’t have a right to do that. For all I knew, he was breaking inside and simply putting on a brave face because he worried that I would feel bad or something.
After all, he kept watching me as if I would shatter at any minute.
I didn’t blame him. He’d seen me bleeding. Had saved my life.
I never wanted to be indebted to anyone, let alone the man I had sex dreams about.
No, I could not have another fantasy about him. I could not think about him in that way.
He was part of our core group, the new one that we’d somehow formed when Cross and Hazel got together.
I couldn’t break those connections and make things awkward by wanting to fuck him.
Or wanting to hold him.
Wanting to get to know him.
No, none of that. Ever.
I was not going to think about Prior.
/>
My phone buzzed as I stuffed my pajamas and sheets into the washer, not caring if I had to mix them. I looked down at it, standing naked in my laundry room, and cursed.
Great, of course.
Prior: Hey, just seeing how you’re doing. You didn’t talk to me much this week, and I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.
“I didn’t talk to you because I’m avoiding you. I’m not going to use the word avoiding because that would make you matter.”
And now I was standing naked in my laundry room and talking to myself while looking at a text from a man I’d just had a weird sex dream about.
I had reached a new level of insanity, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do now that I was in this new circle of hell.
I let out a breath and answered him.
Me: I’m fine. Just doing some laundry.
That wasn’t a lie. I wouldn’t tell him that I was doing laundry because every time I looked at my sheets, I thought about wrapping my lips around his cock. But then again, we hadn’t been in my bedroom, we had been on my couch.
Could I wash my couch? Or maybe burn it?
I would have to get a whole new couch, but that was fine. Maybe then I wouldn’t have sex dreams about Prior on that one.
Images of a sofa I had never seen before filled my mind with me bent over the back of it as Prior slammed into me.
Great, great, great.
Now I was having daydreams about fucking Prior.
I needed to get that out of my mind. Maybe rub one out to Channing Tatum or someone.
Was Channing Tatum the current hot guy?
No, Oscar Isaac. Oscar Isaac would be the one I would have daydreams about.
And his hair sort of looked like Prior’s with the way it curled right at his neck and temples.
What the hell, Paris?
I growled and looked at my phone as it pinged again.
Prior: If you say so. Well, I’m around this weekend if you need anything.
“Why would I need anything? Why is he being so nice?”
I needed to stop talking to myself.
Me: Thanks. Just doing housework. See you on Monday.
Prior: Good deal.
He didn’t say anything more, and I was grateful. After all, I was losing my mind, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
From That Moment: A Promise Me Novel Page 10
