Page 18 of Maybe You

“A small part of me is still holding my fingers crossed for penile servitude, but…” He holds his arms out. “Meet your new assistant for the week.”

I blink at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remember when I broke in here?”

“Vividly.”

“Funny story with that. Turns out Quinn was not impressed, so now I’m working off my debt to society.”

More staring follows.

“Here?” I finally clarify.

Sutton shrugs. “I was making a case for doing my time in Hawaii, but I was voted down unanimously.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t want any of this.

“Do I get a vote?”

He presses his palm to his chest and staggers backward. “Ouch. That went straight through the heart.”

“And here I thought you didn’t have one.”

He straightens himself up. “Oh. Right. We’re good, then. Anyway. I’m here, ready to suffer the punishment.”

“I really don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Oh, I agree. If you want to put in a good word for me with Quinn, feel free. I for one have never considered myself suitably equipped for manual labor.”

“You seem to have a working set of limbs,” I can’t help but point out.

“True, but I usually avoid using them for that purpose.”

But even while saying that, he picks up the mop and starts tossing things back into the cleaning supplies bucket. When he’s done, he gets up and heads toward the changing rooms. I’m still not a hundred percent sure what’s happening or what to do about it, so I just follow him.

Sutton drops the cleaning supplies in the middle of the changing room, puts his hands on his hips, and looks around with a calculating expression on his face before he glances at me.

“You’re the boss.” He gestures to our surroundings.

“I am?” I’m stumped for a moment, which isn’t doing anything to help me sound assertive or in control, so I clear my throat and give it another go. “I mean, I am. Here’s your first and only order for the day: time to head home.”

I’d really, really prefer it if he would. I’ve never met a more distracting person in my life.

“That’s a bit of an unconventional start to our boss-employee dynamic, but okay,” he says. “Just to clarify, you are propositioning me? Because I accept. My place or yours?”

“Oh my God!” I mutter, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. “Go. Home,” I say, holding my hand up in front of him when he opens his mouth. “Alone,” I add pointedly.

He pretends to think about it for a bit before he says, “Nah.”

“But why?” I ask, completely perplexed. “You just said. Physical things. Not your forte.”

“Manual labor,” he says. “Just to avoid confusion. I do very much enjoy a variety of physical things.”

“I’m giving you an out when it comes to the manual labor.”

“I know. It’s too bad I can’t take it.”

“Why?” I ask with pure exasperation.

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