Page 48 of The Grump I Loathe
“Also didn’t mean to compare my problems to yours,” Eddie said. “All in all, my life wasn’t that bad. I have no idea what I’d have done if I’d been in your place.”
“We don’t need to compete for who had the shittiest childhood,” I said. “They clearly both sucked in their own ways.”
“Yeah,” she said softly.
A coil of discomfort rooted in my chest. Eddie had always seemed like the sun, orbited by an endless stream of people. And I hated the thought of her trudging through life alone. I watched her face shift from those old hurts to the bright smile she always wore.
She started fidgeting next to me, her leg bouncing, and it became clear that this bright, boisterous version of Eddie was a deliberate choice she made—and had probably been making for years. Instead of gloom, she chose sunshine.
I leaned toward her, unable to resist any longer, and caught her lips, chilled and sweet from the ice cream. She gasped lightly in response, but didn’t pull away, sinking into me. I cupped her cheek, and she tilted into my hand, changing the angle. Her lips drifted across mine, and blood rushed in my ears. It felt like I was falling or having the world’s most intense sugar rush.
I wanted to keep falling forever. Then Alannah and Grace shrieked.
I jerked back, reality crashing in as I caught my breath. What the hell was I doing kissing Eddie like this? Even if I was willing to look past the age gap or the company policy, I’d promised myself I’d talk to Grace before bringing anyone new into her life.
She whipped around in the direction of the girls. “They’re not fighting, are they?”
My eyes landed on Grace and Alannah. They were jumping and hugging, clutching massive strands of tickets that poured out of one of the machines. Alannah pointed at a human-sized bear at the prize counter, and Grace nodded enthusiastically. I groaned. But with the taste of Eddie’s chapstick on my tongue, one giant teddy was the least of my problems.
14
EDDIE
Never in my life did I think I’d be a company-car kind of girl, but in the three days I’d had Beatrice, she’d grown on me in a hurry. Combining teams at field day meant that when it came to my bet with Connor, we kind of both won—and both lost.
I wasn’t about to let him back out of his forfeit, so he held his ground, too. It ended with me taking the car and him accepting fun lessons. So far, those lessons had included Connor posing for a photoshoot with Mr. Cheesers wearing matching LockMill baseball caps. I’d honestly had no idea there was such a market for rat-sized clothing.
I was pretty sure I would lose my mind when he nonchalantly mentioned that his brother, Finn, had a Sphynx cat named Lord Meowingtonthe Thirdthat wore striped sweaters. Challenge accepted, bossman. Mr. Cheesers was getting a drool-worthy wardrobe, too.
As far as the car went, the cute blue Prius wasn’t overly flashy, but she was a plug-in hybrid—go, environment!—and still smelled new. The key fob had been left on my desk at the beginning of the week with a note that read, “the color reminded me of your hair,” which hadleft me smiling like a fool for hours. I didn’t want to love her, but some silly, frivolous part of me said to enjoy her while my junker was in the shop. Who knew how long it would be before I got to drive a new car again?
I parked Beatrice in the underground garage and rode the elevator up to the production floor, noting how different the vibe was than it had been back on my first day. The gray was broken up with posters and sparkly decor, there was a never-ending supply of M&M’s in the kitchenette, which I suspected Connor was keeping stocked, and people actuallytalkedto each other now—out loud and in person, instead of just through emails and messenger apps.
I plopped down at my desk, stuffed my headphones in my ears with a favorite playlist, and immediately started coding. Most narrative designers only needed to know enough code to translate between the writing department and the programmers, but I’d learned while working indie and missed it sometimes.
I’d had a blast codingAlterbotandLethal Deceptionbefore that. I swallowed hard at the thought of the game I’d worked on with Ryker in college. We’d made a pretty good team before he’d stabbed me in the back and stolen all the credit for the project. I jammed my fingers into the keyboard, resulting in a jumbled mess of code.
“What’re you working on?” Leigh asked, wandering past.
I popped one of my earbuds out. “Just playing around with the fighting abilities for Mr. Cheesers to show the design team. So far, I’ve got a tail whip, a block, and a power roll. I think that’s probably enough. Keep it simple but fun.”
Leigh’s eyes went wide. “That’s…wow, I wasn’t expecting you to be tackling any of that.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged awkwardly. “It’s just that Connor tends to prefer it when everyone stays in their own lane,” Leigh explained.
Own lane? Like the “not kissing coworkers” lane? I’d done everything in my power not to overanalyze that day because much like post-club-dancing, Lord LockMill had returned to business as usual. There were no flirty glances across the office, no secret stairwell makeouts, not even a mention of the kiss.
More heat bled into my cheeks, and a tangle of emotions—desire and embarrassment—clogged my throat. So muchdesireI didn’t know what to do with myself. Had it all been a mistake? I shoved back from my computer, trying to put that out of my mind. “You know what I don’t understand?”
“What?” Leigh pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Why everyone stayed with LockMill after the divorce if they’re so scared of Connor.” Everyone knew that Ali Miller was the creative force behind the company. When the courts had given the company to Connor, most people in the industry had expected LockMill’s best and brightest to jump ship immediately and follow Ali to whatever new company she founded. But that hadn’t happened, and I still wasn’t sure why.
“We’re notscaredof him,” Leigh said.
I gave her a flat look. “Noah still stumbles over his words whenever Connor walks by.”
