Page 203 of Crazy for this Girl

“So, you want me to babysit?”

I shake my head. “No... I’m saying you get to keep your salary, a position at the company to do everything you wanted to do, and time away from me so you actually jump my ass when you clock out.”

Her lips curl into a pretty smile. “Speaking of jumping…” Her blues slit into thin lines at me. Code for Laynee’s version of on the verge of bitching at me. It’s crazy how after all this time, I can still predict exactly what she’s about to do. “Jonah said his student debt was all paid for. He received an email today about it.”

“And?”

“And something inside my head screams that you did it.”

I lift my shoulders nonchalantly and square them because I’m not going to fight it. “You caught me.”

“Cal.” Her brows chase together, and it amazes me how this woman is still surprised by the shit I do.

“Laynee.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” She huffs pridefully. “I appreciate you, I do. But you’re running around and fixing things without telling or asking me makes me want to punch you in the balls.”

“I didn’t do either of those things because you would’ve said no.” She sends me a blank and unamused look which isn’t posing well for how much I want her to trust and believe in me—us. “And because…I honestly didn’t think about it. I just wanted to do it for you, and Jonah. I liked that kid, too, if you remember.”

“I do. But I don’t need your help.”

“I know.”

“And now I have to pay you back.”

My lips heave, can’t help it. “I’m up for negotiations.”

“I’m afraid now of what those are now,” she utters, shaking her head as if I’m too much of an ass clown to be serious.

“I require a kiss every day, Laynee.”

“And?”

“Dinner at least once a week.”

“Do I pay?” She gives me a pleading look. “I want to pay, Cal.”

“If you must.”

“That includes more than pizza.”

“Well, don’t I get to choose if—”

She scoffs. “Like I chose for you to not pay off my student debt.”

“Touché.” I clear my throat. “I’d also like a meeting with you every Wednesday at one.”

Her pretty little face twists in confusion because I just told her she wasn’t working for me and now I desire some of her time. “For what?”

“For me to spread you over my desk and drink more than coffee.”

“You want to fuck me as payment like a prostitute?” The way she says the question is like she’s asking me what the weather is going to be like tomorrow and if she should wear rain boots.

“We’re negotiating,” I chide through a light chuckle that I can’t suppress because geezus Christ. “I’m just telling you what I want. My God, I don’t know why I’m so attracted to you.”

A ghost of a smile illuminates her features, but she ignores my side comment as she pushes her cheek out with her tongue thoughtfully. “I don’t want a time set.”

“And what’s that?”

---