Page 57 of Stuck with Mr. Grump

I could argue that it was just me being kind, but kindness shouldn’t negate self-preservation. I just need to be strong. So what if he has pretty green eyes and a face that looks like it was specially carved to drive women crazy? I need to focus. He’s my boss. And regardless of that, we’re on completely different paths in life. We would never even work so there’s no point trying to foster any feelings between us.

But then I think about the sadness in his eyes. The one that’s seemingly woven into him, and my heart can’t help but empathize because it’s a sadness I understand all too well.

I’m shaken out of my thoughts when the door to the bathroom open. Sterling steps out and the sight of him has my mouth drying. Because he’s shirtless. He walks into the room, his head wrapped in a towel which he’s currently using to dry his wet dark hair.

My eyes trace the shadows between every defined ab on his olive skin. The dip at the hollow of his throat, the way strands of his hair cling to his forehead. My gaze lowers once again to the perfect v on his hips that goes all the way down to?—

“Are you planning on taking a picture, Miss Cameron?” Sterling asks, sounding so fucking cocky I could punch him in the face.

My gaze snaps to his, narrowing immediately into a glare. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

He smirks, looking way too amused. “Because I just took a shower? I’d be walking around in my briefs but I figured it wouldn’t be appropriate considering present company.”

“You’re damn right it wouldn’t,” I grit out. “Go put on your shirt.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t take orders from you, Emilia,” he states, stepping forward.

I feel something in my stomach take a plunge. He cannot come near me looking like that.

“Please, put on a shirt,” I say, uncaring that I have to resort to begging.

“No.”

My fists clench. He is such an asshole.

Sterling’s expression is one of complete nonchalance as he continues walking closer. Finally, he settles on to the couch next to me. I promptly shift back, leaving enough room between us.

“How would you feel if I took off my shirt right now?” I mutter without looking at him.

“It’s a free world, Miss Cameron. Although I can’t take responsibility for my actions if you did that,” he states, his gaze heated.

I swallow, momentarily lost for words.

“Are we going to watch the movie or not?” Sterling questions after a couple of moments.

I shake my head slowly. “Not.”

He’s seated right beside me and he has refused to put on a shirt. There’s no way I’d be able to concentrate on the great love triangle that is Amy, Laurie, and Jo.

“How about we talk instead?” I suggest.

Sterling gives me a look that says he’d rather chew granite. “About?” he grumbles.

“You tell me what happened to you last night. Exactly what made you drive for an hour at night only to get wasted alone in the middle of nowhere?”

I might as well have doused us both in cold water. The temperature in the room goes down and Sterling becomes eerily silent for a bit. When he does speak, his voice is hard, unflinching.

“I thought I’d do something impulsive for once. You’re the one always saying I’m too uptight,” he says drily.

My eyes roll. “Bullshit. You were in pain.”

“Leave it, Emilia,” he orders.

“No. You don’t get to tell me not to pry when you’re the one who brought me into this. You called me, Sterling.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw but he stays silent.

“You can talk to me,” I say softly. “I’ll listen.”

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