Page 7 of Plus-Sized Bratva Prisoner

Yefim shifts in his seat so that his body is turned away from me. I wonder if I am annoying him. Isthatwhy he’s constantly staring? That would be bad. I can’t be annoying the boss during my first week on the job. That's not the impression I want to make.

He’s quiet for a while, then staring at me again, followed by a really heavy sigh. I start to get more nervous. It’s weird—I don’t get the feeling that I am annoying him, but I must be for him to be sighing like that.

“Am I bothering you?” I ask nervously. Maybe I should make some excuse and try to leave.

“Oh, no, it’s just—work stuff.”

He dismisses my concern with the wave of his hand, and I notice how the muscles of his forearm flex when he moves.

My eyes trace over his white shirt, his pecs, pushing up against the soft fabric.

Shit. He works out. A lot. He definitely takes care of himself. He really is an inspiration. Working hard, doing well in life and still finding the time to stay as fit as he looks.

I sigh softly and bite at my lip.

Okay. Focus. Get your work done.

Yefim chuckles, and I can’t help myself. I start grinning.

I have no idea what is going on between us, but there is something happening.

It’s amusing and confusing at the same time.

I feel like I’m in high school, stealing glances at the hot popular boy. Except this isn’t a boy. This is a man.

***

It takes me much longer to finish the spreadsheet than I had estimated, but I did make that estimation before I knew I was going to be distracted by my hot boss while I was trying to complete the task.

Finally, I save the file, send a copy to Samantha and Eric, and close my laptop.

“Are you done?” Yefim asks, stretching as he leans back in his chair.

“Yes, thank you for letting me stay late.”

“It’s nine-thirty. Come on, let me drive you home.” He stands up, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair.

“Oh, no, I can’t do that. I’ll catch the train. Really. It’s no problem.”

“I’m not too happy about you being on the train at this time of night alone.”

“I won’t be alone. It’s Friday night. Lots of people will be around.”

He eyes me up and down and I can see he’s not happy about it, but at the same time, he doesn’t know me well enough to be pushy.

I would accept a ride with him if I wasn’t so nervous around him. It’s been awkward enough sitting at his desk—it’ll be even worse in the small space of a car.

No, I’ll catch the train. It’s a block’s walk from this building, and this isn’t exactly a dodgy part of town or anything. I’ll be fine.

Yefim insists on walking me out of the building, asking me again in the parking lot if he can take me home, and I decline again.

Then, I quickly walk away before it can get any weirder.

But as soon as I turn my back on him, I have this stupid grin on my face.

I really enjoyed talking to him, even if we didn’t actually say much.

There is something about him that I like.

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