Page 24 of That First Night
Looking between him and the piece of paper in my hand, I return my gaze back to him. I have words lodged in my throat, but I can’t seem to find anything to say.
“T-thank you,” is the only thing I can muster up to say.
He crosses his desk to walk towards me and as he gets closer, I feel air trapped in my lungs, finding it hard to breathe. He stops directly in front of me and my head tilts up slightly to meet his gaze. His hand tucks a small strand of hair behind my ear and electricity shoots through my body. I let out a breath of air and lean into his hand. My fucking body has a mind of its own when he’s this close to me.
“No. Thankyou, Peyton.” The corner of his lip tilts up. “You’re going to be really helping me out a lot with James.”
I nod and when he takes a small step away from me, I grab my bag and walk towards the door. I pause at the door and give one more glance over my shoulder to find Thomas standing in the middle of his office with both of his hands tucked into his pockets and a smile on his face.
“I’ll text you later today,” I say and raise my hand to give an awkward wave.
“I look forward to it, Sunshine.”
I’m out the door with his nickname for me ringing in my ears and I can’t decide if taking this job is the best or worst decision I’ve made since moving to the city.
I texted Thomas a few hours after leaving his office yesterday, letting him know that I would be over today to start moving my stuff in. My thoughts were all over the place before I gave him a definite time because part of myself wanted to move in at the last possible minute and the other part of me wanted some time to get to know James and make him comfortable with me living in his space.
Now, I’m packing up the last of my stuff at Kali and Avery’s before I spend the rest of the day unpacking into the new space.
“Okay, you’re all packed up here,” Avery says, pulling me from my thoughts as she steps into the room.
“Thank you, Ave,” I say quietly. “I appreciate your help.”
“That’s what friends are for, bitch,” she laughs. “Besides, I want to see what daddy’s apartment looks like.”
“Please stop calling him that,” I laugh back at her.
“What?” She throws her hands in the air. “I’m just calling it like I see it and he's a daddy.”
I roll my eyes at her as I brush past her to bring the last box into the hallway.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask her.
“You’re not bringing your smut trophies with you?” She smirks.
“No, Avery. What if James gets his hands on them?”
“He’s three! He can’t read them.” She picks one up and opens it up to a page I have tabbed and annotated to read a line out loud, “Fuck, baby, do you feel how hard my cock is for you? Do you feel what you’re doing to me?” She mocks as I swipe it from her hand.
“Hey!” I chuckle. “Lulu Moore writes about some hot hockey players. Those boys are some of my favorites and you can’t blame a girl for wanting a little smut in her life. Hockey players are a superior trope.”
“That’s not even a trope!” She laughs at me. “Besides, single dad is the superior trope. Try and fight me on it.”
“You be quiet, I’m making it a trope.” I laugh back as I placeFelixback on the shelf with the rest of the New York Players collection from Lulu Moore. “Besides you haven’t even read Maren Moore’sTotally Puckedseries. If you did like I told you to forever ago, you would understand that hockey is the superior trope.” Her body rumbles with a full belly laugh and she rolls her eyes at me. “Now let’s go, Avery. I want to get settled before he gets home from work.”
We hustle out of the apartment and load the boxes into her car. Pulling out the paper he gave me yesterday with his address on it, I plug it into my phone’s GPS and we’re on our way.
Before I know it, we’re pulling up to the largest building in the city. I mean, close to the largest; it’s certainly not the empire state building but it might as well be. Standing next to the vehicle, I look up at the building in front of me. It must be a hundred stories tall. I glance down at the paper to make sure we’re at the right address.
Before we unload the car, I want to confirm it’s the right place. We enter the lobby and find an elderly man sitting at the front desk, typing away on the computer. Glancing at his name tag, I see the name ‘Jim’ and I know I’m in the right place.
“Hi,” I greet him. “My name is Peyton Kelly, I’m here-”
“For Mr. Ford,” he interrupts.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Welcome to Sunset Square, ma’am. I have already made you a key card for the private elevator that takes you to Mr. Ford’s penthouse.”
