Page 32 of He Falls First

“Oh, hi!” I finally say, hoping he didn’t notice me ogling him.

“Elizabeth.” There’s a note of something unreadable in his voice—like he’s caught between boss mode and being human.

My brain is doing somersaults, and I’m desperately hoping he can’t tell that his non-work attire is throwing me for a loop. The rugged handsomeness is unfair, really. No one gave me the memo that the man could shift from boardroom intimidation to this… this casual hormone exploder standing before me.

My eyes flick behind me, where my open suitcase sits by the bed. A jumble of bras and underwear is still on display. Heat floods my cheeks.

I quickly step sideways to block his view, angling my body so his gaze stays locked with mine. No need to make this more awkward. I try to maintain eye contact with Hendrix, hoping against hope that he won’t glance over my shoulder.

I smile brightly, despite my nerves. “What brings you by? Just coming to check on me?”

“We’re starting your dating lessons now,” Hendrix declares bluntly.

My jaw hits the floor, and I stare at him in disbelief. Of all the things I thought he might say, this wasn’t even on the list. Dating lessons? Now? When I just got here? And with my underwear strewn about like some sort of lingerie garage sale? The situation couldn’t be more absurd, and he’s staring at me like it’s all supposed to be perfectly normal.

I resist the urge to groan. This is going to be a long five weeks.

Chapter 13

Elizabeth

“Whoa, hold on,” I say to Hendrix, who blinks like he never expected me to have an opinion on this. “You can’t just barge in here and expect me to be ready for dating lessons. I haven’t even had a chance to catch my breath!”

Hendrix huffs, his dark hair tousled in that devil-may-care way that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow is. “Elizabeth, I don’t have time for—”

“You seriously want to start right this second?” I stare at him.

He nods, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s why you’re here. No time to waste.”

I shake my head. This is entirely too much now. This man just bulldozed his way into my apartment, packed up my life, and transplanted me here without so much as a ‘how do you do.’ Now he expects me to just dive into what he wants to do the moment my suitcase hits the floor?

“Absolutely not,” I say, standing tall. “You didn’t even give me a chance to settle in first.”

He looks at me with a puzzled expression, but I’m not backing down this time. This is yet another example of someone taking my kindness for weakness, and I refuse to let that happen again.

I press on, emboldened. “You can’t just uproot someone’s life, then bark orders the second you get them alone. I know you’re used to getting your way, but that’s not how this is going to work.”

I fold my arms, lifting my chin. He’s my boss, sure, but in this moment, I don’t feel even a little guilty about standing up for myself. And that part, at least, feels good.

Hendrix sticks his head further into the room, his sharp eyes scanning the walls, the furniture, and finally, the underwear in the open suitcase by the bed.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask, a touch of mock politeness in my voice.

His response comes as he steps fully into the room. “It’s my house, so of course I’m coming in.”

“Of course,” I echo dryly, watching him prowl inside..

I kick my suitcase closed, though I have to admit, I’m no longer feeling self-conscious about him seeing my underwear. He’s the one who should be embarrassed about his behavior here.

“We need to update our contract if we’re going to be living together, Hendrix,” I snap. I can’t contain my annoyance anymore.

“Update?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Terms for living together,” I explain. “Including, but not limited to, a right to privacy. Because let’s face it, you waltzing into my room like I don’t have a choice in the matter isn’t going to work for me.”

For a moment, Hendrix just stands there, looking like someone slapped a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign right across his forehead. But then something shifts in him, and his posture softens. He lets out a sigh, runs a hand through that disheveled mane of dark hair, and takes a step closer, but stops just short of invading my personal bubble.

Gone is the gruff, demanding demeanor, replaced by a softer, more apologetic one. He lets out a sigh and sits down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the suitcase beside it.

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