Page 57 of Playboy Boss

Chapter Twenty

Scottie sat in the kitchen Saturday afternoon, tired because sleep didn’t come. It hadn’t even been twelve hours since she’d arrived back home, reeling and hating herself. Although she hated the situation more. How could she have let her lust take her by the throat?

Was she just being a fool? An inexperienced idiot who didn’t know what to look for in a man? Maybe, because of her prejudices based on her father, she wouldn’t know what to do when a good guy came around.

She sighed. Too much was on her mind. She needed to get her life together.

“You’re up.” Tara walked into the kitchen, holding her iPad.

Scottie glanced up, smiling at her Tara, despite the battle that had been going on inside her. The tension that had been causing them strife had dissipated once Scottie had paid her portion of the rent. Which brought her to another thing she couldn’t stop thinking about: her grandmother’s brooch—the one she needed to buy back.

“Hey,” she replied to Tara’s greeting.

“Are you okay?”

Scottie sighed. Not at all. Maybe it was time she stopped pretending she was. “I’m just realizing how hard it is to be an adult.”

“Aww, Scott.” Tara touched her arm, and Scottie leaned into it.

“I’m sorry about the rent,” said Scottie. “I should not have just assumed you’d take care of it. I never expected anything from anyone before. Don’t know why I did now.”

Tara gazed at her thoughtfully. “Don’t say that. You can expect things from people, but you do have to make you own way.”

“I know.” Scottie looked down at her yogurt and granola bowl. “I appreciate you so much. I hope you know that, Tara.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for being such a hard ass about the rent. But I’m on my own. I don’t have anyone to rely on. Well, just Brett, though I wouldn’t consider him reliable either.”

As much as Scottie wanted to express her opinion of Brett, she didn’t. It wasn’t her place to tell Tara what a complete douche he was. Still, it made her think of Konrad again. Scottie was so confused about where he stood—where she stood. What made it worse was he was her boss. There was no way she’d quit without getting another position first. She’d need another one, stat. But the thing was, she didn’t want to quit just yet. She wanted to stay, get to the bottom of it all.

Everything was messed up.

“This is why I don’t date,” Scottie said, averting her eyes. She still smelled like Konrad. And sex.

“When’s the last time you dated someone? Or better yet, had sex?”

Oh God. Konrad’s powerful body between her legs giving her life. His soft lips dancing with hers. His velvety tongue against hers. His massive palms holding her thighs apart.

“I don’t know…” Scottie was a bit too breathy. She absolutely knew the answer. She still felt the soreness between her legs.

“Has it been since sophomore year? Jonathon?”

Three years, really? The first man she’d had sex with was a nice guy in her intro to biology class. He was safe. And a dud. He should not have been her first. Scottie had always struggled in that area. Men were bad news. She’d seen it growing up with her own father, who had abandoned her, and all the loser boyfriends her mother had had.

“I guess Jon was the last guy I dated.” Scottie didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She did, however, consider coming clean about Konrad and how much she’d started to fall for him. That was so completely ridiculous, though, that, in the end, she opted to keep it to herself.

Maybe she could act like nothing happened. When she left Korr Properties, either by contract expiration or a new position, she’d surely never seen him again. Never cross paths. Never anything again.

She hated that thought.

“Don’t you want a boyfriend?”

She wanted Konrad. In his bed. As her boyfriend.

“No. I’m good. I need to work on myself.” The words came out so rehearsed, she almost believed it.

“Oh, come on, Scottie. You’ve been saying that since collage. Isn’t there someone you’re interested in?” Tara wasn’t going to let it go.

Scottie looked away, standing. She walked to the refrigerator, though didn’t open it. “Can’t say I am.”

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