Page 9 of Fumble

“So, you’re going with petulant child behavior today. I’m a fast reader, and you want my opinion. Let me finish the damn thing.” I regret it the moment I say it, but I don’t have time for his games. If I need to go and find a new job for the summer, I’d rather do it now.

“Do you know who I am? I’m your boss.” His indignation is laughable.

“I’m well aware. That doesn’t give you the right to treat me with disdain. So, I accidentally showed you my tattas, big deal. I was trying to be helpful last night, and you spoke to me like the village idiot. You’re ordering me around like a slave this morning. Are you on meds or something?”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m not trying to be a smart-ass. I’m serious. I don’t understand your one-eighty. You forgive my mistake, you flirt with me, then you act like I’m the shit on your shoe. I’m your assistant, not your slave. I’m quick to learn, and I’m not asking to be coddled. Just let me do the job I came here to do. You won’t regret it.” He rubs his temples.

“Can we talk about this later? I really need to focus on the speech.” I’m happy to leave this subject alone as long as he fixes his attitude.

“It’s great. A few tweaks here and there, it’ll be good to go. Give me five minutes to finish reading, and we can talk about the changes.” He nods in defeat, loosens his tie, and makes some calls while he waits.

The car smells of perfume, which I attempt to ignore, but I can’t help thinking about Brittany being in here with him last night, enjoying his talents. I force myself to focus, and before long, I’m ready to discuss the revisions.

“There’s very little that needs changing. In the third paragraph, I’d alter the wording here.” I hold the paper out to him. “Repetition is a great tool to reinforce your message, but overuse can have the opposite effect. If you reword this one sentence, it transforms that whole section.” He moves closer to see what I’m saying, invading my personal space. I can feel his breath on my neck as he leans in.

“Great. What else?” I can’t hide my gasp at his proximity. Everything inside me is screaming for me to twist my head and taste his lips. Two inches to the left, and we would be face to face.

“I… just a word here and there. It’s pretty self-explanatory.” I thrust the papers into his hand, chancing the smallest glance. His dark, broody, and unbelievably sexy eyes find mine. I want to kiss him so badly, an ache growing between my legs with every second he holds my gaze. Finally, I push myself across the seat, putting as much distance between us as possible. “You can read through them.” He stares down at the papers as if he’d forgotten he was holding them.

“Yes, thank you.”

I pull my phone from my purse, pretending to be engrossed in emails. I quickly type out a text to Zoey.

Me:Need to talk. Will you be around tonight?

Zoey: What’s wrong?

Me:I’m out of my depth.

Zoey:You’re a rock star. Don’t forget it. You got this. Call me when you can.

I take a moment to breathe. I can’t make any more mistakes. By the time we get to the stadium, I’m more confused than ever. You could cut the tension between us with a knife—it’s as thick as the stench of skank filling the air.

My important emails consist of updating my subscription to Cosmopolitan, deleting a bunch of requests to harbor millions of dollars on behalf of the prince of Nigeria for the small price of my bank details, and a message from my dad.

Hey, Faithy

How’s my magna cumme laude graduate? Is Vaughn treating you right? You tell that big lug I’ll have him doing squats the rest of his life if he messes with my girl. All joking aside, how was your first day? I was thinking about you and hoping this summer will bring you new and exciting experiences. You deserve the best of everything, sweetheart. Your momma and I miss you. We’re so proud of you and can’t wait to hear about all your adventures. Let us know when y’all will be in town.

Love you, Faithy

Daddeeee x

Stealing a glance in Hunter’s direction, my heart sinks. My dad loves him, and it would crush him if he thought I wanted to get in his star quarterback’s pants, and even worse if he thought Hunter had any interest in me. Although, after last night, I doubt that’s the case.

As much as I can fantasize about losing my virginity to a veteran player with skills, I can’t even imagine. James is a more realistic prospect. If our date goes well, maybe I can get this over and done with at the beginning of summer. I don’t need to be hung-up on my boss for three months—the one guy who can’t give me what I want.

“We’re here. I think I’ve got it down, but can we run through it again quickly?”

“Of course.” The privacy window recedes, and Hunter politely requests his driver leave us.

“Can you give us a few minutes, Bentley?”

“Sure thing, boss.” The moment the front door clicks shut, I burst into a fit of the giggles.

“Your driver is named Bentley? Seriously? And we’re in a Bentley? Lucky you don’t own a Kia Sportage.” My amusement escapes in a snort that would make a pig proud.

---