Page 92 of What If I See You

“Yeah boss?”

“That includes sex.”

Aww man.

Come the fuck on.

“You know I’m really starting to hate you, right?”

Darius grins, nodding his understanding. “I love you right back big guy. Thanks for making me earn my paycheck.”

Fucker.

“We made it.”Layken pulls into my parking spot and then puts the car in park before looking over at me with a tired smile. Adrenaline got me through leaving the arena and boarding the plane but once we got up into the air, the pain meds Darius gave me zonked me out pretty hard. Layken was clearly shaken when she saw me after the game but she didn’t panic. She asked Darius a few questions about helping me around the house and then took charge. Usually, a confident woman turns me on but right now I’m anything but aroused.

I’m pissed.

I’m pissed that we even went to Milwaukee.

I’m pissed at the asshole who checked me into the wall.

I’m pissed that my body couldn’t take the blow.

Really I’m just pissed with myself.

I should’ve seen it coming.

I should’ve been aware of my surroundings.

Maybe I could’ve gotten out of the way.

“Sit tight, I’ll help you out.” Layken pats my leg but I scowl at her and shake my head as I open my door.

“I don’t need help,” I mumble. “I’m fine.”

She gets a good look at the don’t-fuck-with-me expression on my face and quietly nods. “Okay.”

I do all I can not to cringe at the pain of turning my torso to get out of the car.

Fucking ribs.

“I’ll get our bags,” she says, hopping out on her side.

She leaves me to get myself out of the car which I appreciate and moves to the back to grab her suitcase, my suitcase, and my gym bag.

“Give me one of those.” I tell her when I slowly step around the back of the car.

She huffs a laugh. “Oh, not a chance, big guy. I’ve got this.”

“Layken,” I scoff. “You don’t need to be carrying my shit. I can do it just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” she says, ignoring me as she closes and locks the hatch and then proceeds to the elevators. “But you’re not going to.”

Watching her walk into the building with two suitcases, a backpack, and my huge gym bag makes her look like some sort of packrat. It also makes me feel like a fucking loser.

“Layken—”

“Mr. Ollenberg.” She turns on me, her business-like stare reaching intimidation level. “Do you want to fuck me the way you’ve been fucking me these past couple days?”

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