Page 2 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

I close my eyes as thoughts of him smiling and laughing fill my mind. It’s been six months since Matthias called me to say Theo died in a race, and I swear the sadness I felt that day hasn’t eased one bit in all that time. I want to remember him as the guy I knew who always chose to have fun, but that’s smothered by how much I miss him.

Shaking my head to get rid of those feelings, I look down at my desk and see my phone lighting up with messages. I don’t even have to check to see who they’re from because it’s been this way for the past three days. Text after text from the same person.

Gina, the woman I had a good time with but never wanted more than that. Now she’s blowing up my phone about how she thought we were serious. I can’t imagine why she believed that, though. I don’t exactly give off the settle down vibe.

Maybe she confused me with that brother of mine who sits in the head office when he’s not busy taking care of that pregnant girlfriend of his or painting some masterpiece in his art studio they set up in the old carriage house. How Gina could have mistaken me for Matthias baffles me, but women do strange things.

I read through her messages and sigh. She claims she loves me. What the hell is that about? We hung out a grand total of four times. She thinks that’s love?

That’s barely lust.

In truth, what she and I were was bored. Or at least I was. I got sick and tired of wishing my life wasn’t the way it is and wanted to forget everything for a while. We had a good time. Why would anyone want to make it more than that?

Since I haven’t replied to a single one of her texts, Gina starts calling. I don’t answer the first one, but when she calls a second time not a minute later, I know I’m going to have to talk to her if I ever want peace again.

“Hey, Gina. What’s up?” I say casually.

“Kellen, did you get my messages? Why didn’t you text back?” she asks, her voice sounding like she’s on the verge of some breakdown.

“Yeah, I did, but I’ve been busy.”

“It’s a long weekend. I thought we could spend it together.”

I honestly have no idea what she would think that. At no point have I given her even the slightest indication we were anything serious enough to spend a three-day weekend together.

“I’m going to be busy. You know how it is. Lots of work to do.”

“You can’t take a few hours off?” she asks, her voice practically begging.

“They’re sending me out of town,” I lie.

I need to find a way to make her see we weren’t anything serious. I’ve tried being casual and noncommittal. It hasn’t worked.

“Why are you acting like this? I thought you cared about me.”

Since my approach so far hasn’t been successful, I don’t have any choice. I need to just be honest with her.

“Gina, we had a good time together. People like us deserve that, but we also don’t look for anything more. Why can’t we just appreciate it for what it was?”

The phone goes silent for a long moment before she answers, “Because it wasn’t like that with us. Why can’t you admit that? Didn’t you see my message where I said I love you? I know you love me too. I felt it when we were together.”

I honestly have no idea what the hell she’s talking about. The four times we got together, we had sex. That’s it. Well, there was dinner involved the first time, but after that all we had was sex. There was never any mention of feelings or anything like that, and I certainly never said I loved her.

“Gina, that isn’t what we were. We had a good time. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

What I really want to say is she’s out of her mind, but since I don’t think that’s going to do anything to improve the situation, I stay mum about her mental state. Better to take the high road.

She doesn’t feel the same way, though, and snaps, “You can’t just play with people’s feelings, Kellen King. You’re going to get yours. Watch your back, baby.”

The phone call ends with that delightful threat I don’t give a shit about, and I sit back, looking up at the ceiling as I wonder what the hell made her think we were anything real. I may not have any experience with real feelings, but I know for damn sure what we felt for one another would never be considered anything close.

I send her messages to the folder set up to hold them all and toss my phone back on the desk. She’ll get over whatever this is. It shouldn’t take long. I wasn’t exactly an important part of her life.

For a moment, I think I might agree with Matthias about breaking his favorite work rule, no fraternization between employees. That disappears almost instantaneously, though, because I hate the idea of agreeing with him. So what if two consenting adults who happen to work together have some fun?

I know how this will go for me. That woman in HR with the gray wiry hair pulled back in the tightest bun on planet Earth will give me one of her lectures and then send me on my way. They’re boring as hell, but I get it. She has a job to do, so I sit through them and pretend to listen as she explains the rules and how I must not break them.

I don’t care about any of that, but I respect the fact that she’s got to do what she’s got to do. I always smile when she finishes with her spiel and wish her well when I leave our meetings. I’m a manwhore, but I’m a professional when it comes to her. I think she appreciates that.

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