Page 72 of Time to Bounce

I chuckled. “Then yes, they’re apology pastries, and this is her chocolate milk.”

She pointed a red-tipped nail at me and said, “Get her back into a good mood. She’s been gone a long time, which means she’ll have a long ass day. Long ass days here go better when you’re in a good mood.”

I nodded.

“She’s in the back corner. With all the pink.” She pointed.

“Thank you,” I winked and moved toward the pink.

It was very pink, too.

The cubicle she was in was bright pink—wallpaper maybe—and she had pink desk accessories, a pink blanket over her chair, and even a pink rug.

She wasn’t wearing pink, though.

She was wearing a black t-shirt, black yoga pants, and a black headband in her hair holding her gorgeous locks back.

She was scowling at her computer screen, and she looked so damn cute I wanted to lick the damn dimple in her cheek.

Fuck, I loved that dimple.

It only came out when she was frowning, and usually it was aimed at me.

I had no doubt her scowl was my fault, too.

“Athena,” I said softly.

She snapped her head in my direction, and for a second she looked happy to see me. Then that happiness fled as she remembered she was mad at me.

“What are you doing here?” she growled. “I’m at work.”

My lips kicked up at one corner, but I didn’t dare smile.

“Garrett always comes to visit you,” I pointed out.

Her phone rang, and she shot me an annoyed glance and picked it up.

“911, what’s your emergency?” Athena answered professionally, not a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Ma’am,” Athena said, “this is 911. Not 811. You have to call 811 if you want to dig.”

Athena hung up after a few more seconds, and then her glare returned to me.

“That happen often?” I asked.

“More than you would think,” she admitted. “What are you doing here, Gable?”

“I finally allowed myself to come over here because I’m done telling myself I’m no good for you,” I admitted. “And sure, maybe I am a dirty old man creeping on a barely twenty-one-year-old, but if you can handle the grossed out stares, so can I.”

She widened her eyes at me. “What do you mean, grossed out? Nobody would look at us being together as gross. You look like you’re ageless.”

Sure, I could probably look younger if I got rid of the beard, but I’d found that I liked it.

Though, I was glad to finally have it back to a more manageable length.

“I’m thirteen years older than you,” I pointed out. “Not to mention, you’re this beloved friend to almost all of my family. You have this deep connection with Maven, who is cherished. Garrett loves you. My parents love you. The department loves you. And then there’s me, the man who goes and immerses himself in trouble, and allows some fuckin’ douchebag to become obsessed with you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, started to say something in reply to that, and stopped when her phone rang again.

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