Page 44 of Dear Grumpy Boss

“Who told you it was a problem then?”

His mouth twitched. God, were his lips sexy. I’d forgotten how full the bottom one was. Full and pink. He was probably a great kisser, with that anatomy and his perfectionism.

“Ex-girlfriends,” he answered, pulling me right back to reality. Weston had a lot of ex-girlfriends.

“Okay, now I’m intrigued. Spill what your problem is.”

His lips pulled into a half smile. “I’ve been told many, many times I can be single-minded. When I’m concentrating on a project or deep in my work, I’m not aware of anything outside of it. In the past, I’ve missed reservations and forgotten plans for days because of my hyperfocus.”

“Ahhh…” I picked up the wrapper from my chopsticks and began folding it into a small square. “Yes, I can see why that would be a problem for your plethora of girlfriends.”

A deep, full laugh burst from him. “Plethora? Really?”

“Yes, Weston. Every time I saw you after you went away for college, you had a different woman with you. I think that qualifies as a plethora.”

His humor fell away. “Not all those women were girlfriends. In fact, most weren’t.”

“Yet you felt compelled to bring them to our family dinners.”

There had been a point in my life I’d considered Weston Aldrich my friend. Back then, I never questioned that he cared for me.

When he went to college and I started high school, things had changed. I’d been miserable, and deep down, even though it hadn’t been fair, I’d blamed Weston for what Miles had put me through. So, I’d stopped talking to him, and once I’d shoved that wedge between us, Weston had added to it by rarely coming to visit alone. He’d almost always had a girl with him—even at my going-away dinner before I moved to Chicago.

“I’m surprised to hear you’d noticed since you barely spoke a word to me,” he intoned.

“Just because I wasn’t speaking to you doesn’t mean I didn’t see you.”

His attention was on his teacup. He rotated it until it was in a position that seemed to satisfy him and looked up. “Whyweren’t you speaking to me?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, Weston. Does it really even matter? We’re here together now. I’m speaking to you, and you no longer feel the need to bring one of your plethora with you, let’s just leave it at that.”

His brow started to lower, but I wagged my finger at him. “If you’re about to scowl at me, think again. You gave me your word. No frowning.”

His expression smoothed, the corners of his mouth hitching. “So, we’re never going to discuss how you went from my little buddy to a stone-cold bitch at the flip of a switch?”

I had to laugh. “You’re calling fourteen-year-old me a stone-cold bitch? Isn’t that illegal?”

He didn’t join me in laughing. “I guess that’s a no.”

My eyes rolled. “I wasn’t a bitch, West. I was having a tough time with self-image, my mom was going off the rails, high school sucked most of the time, and you kept getting more good-looking every year.”

His head cocked. “What does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t like myself back then, so I pushed everyone away.”

You. I pushed you away.

He went still, his gaze heavy and searing. “But I liked you enough for both of us.”

I sighed. He truly believed that. “I know you did.”

“You were like a sister to me.”

I cringed for my younger self. “And I had a massive crush on you, you oblivious man. The ingredients for disaster were there. My low self-esteem, your hotness, our age difference, your parade of gorgeous girlfriends. Once you went away, you came back as not mine anymore. I don’t know. Looking back, it’s silly, but at the time, it felt so big.”

He blinked at me a few times, slowly, as if trying to decipher what was real.

“It isn’t silly, Elise. Your feelings have never been silly to me. I wish I’d known back then.”

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