Page 39 of Rewrite the Rules

“You love money that much?”

Joel widens his eyes at me. “The money is the worst part. Money makes people angry. Aggressive.”

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes. “You love your golden toilets.”

“I don’t have golden toilets.”

“But you could, right?” This is Joel’s only off-putting quality. I love a man who offers to pay for dinner, but the man who can afford to buy the restaurant? It’s a little unsettling. Mostly because I will never match Joel’s caliber and I’m just not into a Cinderella story. No one talks about what happens after the fairytale wedding. She’s probably bored as fuck in that big ol’ castle with the entire waitstaff catering to her every need.

Joel pinches my lips together gently as he laughs. “Hush, woman. I’m not here to talk net worth. That’s not the part I like.” He brushes the pad of his forefinger across my bottom lip before he takes his hand back.

I fall into a bit of a stupor. I hate (and love) when he touches me like that. “Which part then?”

“Nurturing startups. There are a lot of eager founders out there who have brilliant ideas but have no clue how to foster them into profitable businesses. And sorry to say, but no one will ever reap the benefits of your genius until your company is profitable. That’s where I come in. I like to think I’m giving these underdogs a fighting chance.”

I touch his bare feet with mine. Footsie is friendly—right? He glances at me from the corner of his eye.Careful, he warns wordlessly. I don’t care. I swoon.

“That’s pretty amazing of you.”I smile to myself. That one was for my gut.See? You have good instincts. He’s a good one.“Oh, and hey before I forget, do you think you could survive next week on your own? Would it be possible to get time off approved? I know it’s short notice.” I can’t watch him struggle with the chopsticks anymore. I grab the white plastic fork off the table in front of us and hold it out to him. “There’s no shame in it, boss.”

He grumbles as he snatches it from my hand in defeat. “Sure. Where are you headed?”

I grimace. “Las Vegas.”

“Funny.” Joel’s laugh is dry. “Very funny. Where are you really headed?”

I shrug and shoot him a daringly sexy look. “I said what I said.”

Joel can’t hide his irritation…from me at least. No one else would notice his subtle tells, but I study him all day. His jaw twitches ever so slightly and he clenches his teeth together to control the flinch of annoyance. “Why?”

“Nope. I’m not holding the share bear. And you already verbally approved my time off. No takebacks. But—if it lightens your mood, I do have something for you.” I hop up onto my feet.

“Share bear? I swear, Adler. Your mind is that of Hannah Montana. Before she learned to twerk.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I say over my shoulder.And why do you know Hannah Montana well enough to casually reference that children’s show?Oh, of course, Cami. Could this man be any more endearing?

“It means I have to be careful with you.”

I retrieve the bottle of wine from my slumped bag in the far corner of the office. He knows what it is before it’s even in his hands.

“Are you serious?” Joel pulls off his glasses and tosses them on the coffee table. He rubs his eyes. “Adler…I…how did you—this is a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine.”

“Really?” Oh, snap. The owners at that wine store must’ve had no idea. Oh god—I robbed them blind with my sob story. “Let’s just say I got a fantastic deal. I promise you I didn’t pay that much. But still feel free to applaud. I told you, I’m a research ninja.” I karate-chop the air, but Joel’s not amused. He looks lost in memories, so I place the bottle in his lap and guide his hands around it—mostly because I’m concerned he’ll drop it.

I settle back into my position next to him on the floor, knees hiked up, shoulder huddled against his arm, soaking up the awkward silence.

Still silence.

Still awkward.

Joel is staring at the bottle in his hands with a blank face. I wait as long as I can, which is literally about seventy seconds because patience throws me off-kilter. “Are you upset? Did I do someth—”

In one fluid motion, he sets the bottle down beside him, pivots his torso, and interlocks his lips with mine. I could drown in this sensation—happily. Our bodies meld together. Instant alluring warmth, like submerging into a Jacuzzi. Holding my head steady, he presses me into the ground, wedging between my thighs, his weight held by one steady hand braced against the floor. His kiss is desperate, filled with urgent need—but it’s over as soon as it begins.

Joel rises, and I growl in frustration. “Joel! You can’t keep playing me hot and cold like this. You said you wanted to be friends.”

“Fuck. I know. I’m sorry. You’re right.” His palm collides with his forehead causing a hearablesmack!

My chest rises and falls as I recuperate from arousal’s unexpected assault. “What is your problem? If you want to kiss me, then kiss me. I don’t understand the relationship thing. It’s not like I’m asking you to get married right now.”

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