Page 45 of Endgame

Why is my brain registering that as…do it anyway?

The forefront of it isn’t even lust, but his compassion and the easiness I feel around him. I can’t remember the last time I met someone I clicked with so easily, even in the midst of bickering.

I’m missing Callaway’s smile and his easygoing laugh.

I’m craving it, actually.

Speaking of said laugh, it’s like the gods are trying to test me because I hear it. That unmistakable, beautiful, and growly laugh I’ve come to listen for when he’s not around. Searching for any signs of him, I’m left with emptiness.I know he’s here somewhere.

I ignore the side of me that says to make a bathroom stop and search the halls for him—that would be desperate.

It seemsthe stars are aligned for me today because the second I open Jack’s office door, I’m met with a delicious rack of tan abs that are chiseled to perfection. Eight of them, if I’m counting.

Which heaven knows I’m precise.

My mouth is dry, and I’m unable to process words. You’d think I’ve never seen a set of abs before. I have, but none that have the edibility these babies do. The desire to run my thirsty tongue up their crease makes my mouth feel like a Sahara.

Once a thirsty bitch, always a thirsty bitch.

A throat clearing forces my eyes upward as my eyes latch onto the most perfect blues and the thickest black hair—eyes and hair I’d recognize anywhere. My desperation has no end.

Callaway is smiling so big I’m fully convinced his cheekbones will have permanent damage. I’m amusing him, and I was too preoccupied to realize it. My embarrassment should be written in neon because Callaway and Jack look like they’ve been waiting on me to greet them. I should probably get on that.

My eyes slide to Callaway’s as I do my best to read the room. He looks at me endearingly, like he’s happy to see me. That shouldn’t make me smile, but I can’t help myself.

“Leggins, it looks like we’ve managed to throw off my girl.”

My girl.

Did he seriously try to claim me in front of my boss? I’ve got about a million snarky comebacks reeling in my head, but none of them would satisfy the need I feel to kick him in the balls right now—arrogant bastard.

He cannot keep blurting out inappropriate things involving me that arenottrue.Weare not an item, and I amnothis girl.

I’ll keep telling myself that until I actually believe it.

I’d be a fool not to notice how this man looks like a snack, wrapped in a package of nothing—my personal preference. I have to play it cool. I refuse to let my attraction to him ruin this job for me.

Here goes nothing. “I’d barely call that thrown off. It’s more like a weary response to an unexpected sight.” He knows I’m full of it. Desire is written in black ink across my light skin.

What am I, a comedian? My flushed face is most likely making him revel in my annoyance even more. I can feel my anger bubbling as my fists fight the urge to clench, while I hold tight to the seams of my jeans.

“A sight you seemed to enjoy very much, angel.” His eyes look down, like he doesn’t need to physically see my nipples to know they’re hard, the effect most likely beginning at the first sound of his laugh down the hall. He seems to have forgotten about the man seated at the desk directly to his right as well, watching our encounter play out.

The man who also holds the title ofmy boss.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Callaway. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re here.” I’m all but yelling, riling myself up even more while he stands there smiling at me.

Callaway gives Jack a glance, almost like silently asking permission to speak without getting himself in trouble—man child.

“Grip those jeans a little tighter, Dakota. You’ve yet to learn that anger is my kryptonite where you’re concerned.”

This mother fuc?—

“Hayes. Leave the poor girl alone.”

The fact that Jack had to interrupt Callaway’s unashamed flirting makes me want to run for the hills. If the look on Jack’s face conveys anything of what just happened, it’s that our word battle felt too private for a public setting.

It’s out of my control. The giant, half naked man before me does whatever the hell he wants, whenever he wants to.

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