Page 57 of Bad for Business
Ryker lets out protest after protest. I ignore each one, keeping my grip tight on his.
The moment we get to his large SUV, I drop his hand like it’s on fire and open the passenger door.
“Get in.” I don’t bother to keep my voice gentle or professional. I’m so ready to be away from him, even if my escape is only being on the opposite side of the house.
He takes a step forward, and unfortunately, the position puts us too close together.
My mind flashes with the memories of last night. The possessive press of his lips to mine. The lust in his eyes and how, for just a few moments, it felt like he wanted nothing more in this world than me.
“Camille.”
I shiver. Something about how he just said my name reaches deep inside of me and grabs me by the heart. He says it vulnerably. And the way he looks at me right now makes it seem like there’s something he wants to say.
He’s so close I can smell the liquor on his breath. I should hate it, but I don’t. That realization terrifies me. I’ve always hated the smell of liquor because of Dad. He got upset when he drank, always saying things he didn’t mean. Or maybe he didmean them. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted to think too deeply about.
“Camille.” Ryker repeats my name, and it has that same vulnerable lull to it as the first time.
It’s like a sledgehammer to the walls I just put back up this morning. It takes everything in me to not give in to him right this moment.
“You should get in your seat,” I whisper. I’m shocked I’m even able to get the words out. I can barely think straight right now. Not with how close he stands to me, the familiar smell of him completely surrounding me.
God.
What is it about this man that drives me crazy? Why can’t I just fully push him out?
“I don’t want to.”
TWENTY-NINE
RYKER
My cheeks feel hot.
Actually, my entire body feels hot. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had too much to drink or if it’s because of the way Camille stares back at me. Her eyes are bright, the color still stunning despite the way she watches me through narrowed lids. She’s watching me carefully, but I swear there’s a bit of softness in her gaze.
Maybe it’s all in my head.
I’m sure it is.
Everything with her seems to be in my head. All I do is read between the lines and think she’s giving me signs of being interested in me when she isn’t at all.
“Get in the car,” Camille says again, breaking me from my thoughts. Her words are firm, but they aren’t harsh. I know she can have more bite to her tone, so I sigh and rip my gaze from hers, deciding to listen.
I don’t know what I was hoping for anyway.
It’s just another instance where she’s burrowed so deep into my head that I feel myself wanting things I have no business wanting. I blur lines in my head that she’s very clearly drawn inthe sand. I thought if I drank enough tonight, I’d forget all about her.
I slide into the passenger seat with a resigned sigh.
The alcohol helped at first. Every time I looked at her, all I felt was anger. Even when she smiled at Jude in a way she’s never smiled at me, I didn’t feel jealous. I just felt pissed. Now, I wish I had another drink to make it through being alone with her.
“Get buckled,” Camille instructs, bringing me back to the present.
My eyes find hers, and for some reason, I can’t hold back my next words. “Want to do it for me?”
“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and slams the door.
I laugh. Why does pushing her buttons have to feel so good?
