Page 48 of More Than Words

We sat across from each other in the tiny booth seating she’d installed in the bay window in her living room; her smirk growing as I picked at my Khao pad, the fragrant fried rice making my mouth water.

Leilani had—unsuccessfully—tried to set me up on blind dates in the past, telling me that while I didn’t have to ever get married again, it was unacceptable to settle into a life of spinsterhood in my thirties. That could be delayed until my sixties. Which was looking like a likely possibility with the way things were headed.

“Quit playing with it and get down to it.” Leila smirked as she closed her container, nodding at the destroyed bowl of rice and remnants of my meal that’d been picked apart with the blunt end of my chopstick.

I wanted to laugh, and add in the classic Michael Scott joke, but then that just reminded me of Adrian, and I was trying to figure out if this thing between us could go any further.

“Remember the guy from the office I told you about?”

“Which one? The one that was too nice and had a great ass, or the one who acted like an ass that you frequently want to castrate?”

Her laughter indicated she’d answered her own question, and she was highly entertained by my poor decision-making choices.

“Is he at least good in bed? That must be the reason you’re coming to me, right? You need me to smack some sense into you.”

Not exactly. I needed someone who didn’t know him to analyze the situation to see if they thought he was being sincere. That was the thing about loveable assholes. They had good intentions most of the time, but they still managed to hurt people without trying. I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment and buy into his words instead of his past actions.

“I haven’t slept with him.”

“But…” she prompted, her dark eyebrow arching into the smooth caramel hued skin covering her forehead. I was envious of the fact that she was a year older than me but didn’t have a wrinkle or gray hair in sight. “You did other things though, right? I can tell. Did you hawk-tuah and spit on that thang?”

“Can you be serious for like one minute?” I knew she was teasing me, but I didn’t know how to deal with Adrian after what happened on my couch.

“Spitting on it is serious.”

“You spend too much time on TikTok,” I laughed, knowing she was referring to a video that’d gone viral a few months prior. Shaking my head, I decided to just tell her. “He wants to date me.”

“Holy fuck,” she laughed. “Only you could attract the same man twice.”

She met Grant when we were together. He’d been as much of an ass as Adrian could be, but he was also emotionally distant and stubborn as hell. Not good qualities in a man when you were trying to salvage a floundering marriage. From this alternate side of Adrian I was seeing, it was obvious they were vastly different in their emotional maturity. Not something I’d have thought a few months ago when I was convinced my four-year-old nephew had more emotional bandwidth than my handsome coworker.

“You can start talking or I can ply you with more of our favorite Don, but either way, you’re not leaving here until we talk this out. So, open your mouth or I’m getting out the shot glasses.”

Glancing at my phone on the table, I saw it light up with another text message from Adrian, and Leila’s eyes zeroed in on the screen full of notifications.

“Are you ghosting this poor bastard?” she giggled, reaching for my phone. Before I could stop her, she’d typed in my passcode and started scanning. “Oh, he’s got it bad. Sounds like Dickhead wants to put his dick in something alright.”

Her fingers started flying across the screen and my eyes widened as I reached across the table to grab my phone from her grasp. The last thing I needed was her sending Adrian something incriminating, or worse—sexting him.

“Nice try, bish,” she laughed, triumphantly tapping the screen before she dropped it into my hand.

Adrian: Morning, beautiful. I hope you slept well. I know I did after I handled things when I got home. Not as well as you did, but I can wait for more from you. I’ve waited this long. And I’ll wait until I know you want me for something other than my hot bod.

What an idiot. I tried not to laugh at his phrasing, but from what I’d seen of his bod so far, he wasn’t wrong.

Adrian: What are your lunch plans for Monday? I made a reservation at that little Italian restaurant down the street from the office. I think we need to talk. We do still have some pages to get through. Working lunch?

Adrian: I lied. I don’t want to work, but I do want to see you again. I meant it when I said you weren’t allowed to ignore me anymore.

Adrian: I’m going to keep texting you until you agree to a date. I can be very persistent when I want to be. You may as well give in now.

Adrian: Wear that skirt we talked about to work on Monday. I was sad when you took it out of the rotation.

Adrian: It’s long enough you don’t need panties. Just an observation.

Adrian: I’ll be in your office at 11:45. If you try to escape, I’ll find you.

Adrian: Yes, I meant for that to sound creepy, but I’m serious. Hiding isn’t going to get you out of giving this a chance. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of you again, I want more.

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