Page 4 of Boss Me Around

None of the love-gone-wrong songs prepare you for just how deeply a bad relationship can rock your world. Ashland caused me more than heartache. She damaged my connections with my family and played with my grip on reality. I’m pretty sure making me crazy was her favorite pastime, and I’d rather fly solo for the rest of my life than risk something like that again.

Sure, my logical side says Starling isn’t the kind of person who enjoys destroying people for sport, but you never can tell. Ashland didn’t show her true colors until several months into the relationship, when I was already in so deep it was hard to know who to believe—my inner voice or the woman who had stealthily crept into my psyche and started pulling the strings.

Which, in hindsight, isn’t only crazy, but…embarrassing.

I pride myself on being a man who knows his mind and steers his own ship. My entire life, I’ve marched to the beat of my own drum, no matter what my parents, my siblings, my friends, or anyone else had to say about it.

Despite my 3.8 GPA in high school, I didn’t go to college, choosing to lean into my love of vintage motorcycles and open my own repair shop, instead. In tenth grade, I stopped going to church and refused to rethink my choice, no matter how much my mother begged me to join the rest of the family for Christmas mass. College and organized religion didn’t feel authentic for me, so they had to go.

At twenty-eight, I’m still not one-hundred percent sure what I’m here on this planet to accomplish, but I know it isn’t to betray that strong, steady voice inside. That voice is the truest thing I’ve ever heard and the only voice that’s never steered me wrong.

That voice knew Ashland was trouble, but my dick didn’t want to listen.

Nope, my dick had to go bounding after the cute blonde in the tiny pink shorts like a puppy chasing a ball into an alligator’s mouth. And like that same dumb puppy, my dick kept running back to Ashland, wagging his tail, and begging for attention, no matter how many times she proved that she couldn’t be trusted.

But dogs are like that—loyal and loving to the end, no matter how unworthy their owner might prove to be.

It’s embarrassing.

I was embarrassing, but never again.

Which is why I have to hold my sexy boss at a distance.

Just seeing Starling’s name on my phone was enough to put a bounce in my step as I moved away from the rest of my bowling team to listen to her message, for fuck’s sake. God knows what I’d do if she were actually here right now, if she’d taken me up on my offer to come bowl and was sitting with my buddies, drinking beer, and cracking jokes and looking hot as hell as she bends over to roll a ball down the lane. I’d probably be sporting a semi and glaring at every man who dared to look her way, acting like a territorial asshole instead of a friend and colleague.

That’s why, even if Starling Baxter threw herself at my feet and begged me to give her a good, no-strings-attached fucking, I wouldn’t do it. I know better than to risk getting attached to a woman who’s already got me all mixed up inside.

I swear, that’s exactly what I’m thinking when I hear a sharp gasp of surprise from the women at the lane next to ours and look up to see Starling flying toward me, her arms outstretched and a manic expression on her face.

On instinct, I drop my cell and reach out, catching her mid-air.

I stagger back a few steps but manage to stay on my feet as I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her upright.

Once I do, the first thing I notice is that she isn’t wearing a bra—I can feel it when her chest briefly brushes against mine, and it’s enough to inspire an Insta-Hard-On the likes of which I haven’t been guilty of since my teens. The second thing I notice is that she’s soaking wet, dressed in what looks like pajamas, and not wearing makeup, a fact that makes her look even younger than she usually does.

Clearly, something isn’t right, lending an urgency to my voice as I ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is something up at the shelter?”

She gulps, swallowing before she nods her head swiftly up and down. “Yes. There’s a…thing. A weird thing.”

I frown. “What kind of weird thing?”

She drags a hand through her damp hair and blinks faster. “Well, I was at Barrett’s place, watching Keanu while Barrett and Wren are in Niagara Falls eloping. You knew they were eloping, right?”

“Yeah. They sent pictures. What does that have to do with the shelter?”

Starling exhales a wheezing laugh. “Nothing. Just wondering. So, anyway, I’m watching Keanu for them. At Barrett’s. With Kyle, obviously, since he’d be super jealous if I went to visit Keanu without him.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, wondering what has her so scattered. Starling’s a talker, but not usually a rambler.

“And they were both playing so well together out in the yard,” she continues, “that I thought I’d pop in and check the shelter cameras, just to make sure all the animals were okay. Some of them were acting nervous you know, after Stinkerbelle got there this afternoon.”

My frown becomes a dubiously arched brow. “Stinkerbelle? Don’t tell me that’s what you named the skunk.”

“Why not?” She wraps her jacket tighter across her chest, shivering a little. “I mean, I know she was raised as a pet and doesn’t have her scent glands, but it’s still cute. And whoever adopts her can always call her Belle or Bella for short. Anyway, I thought I’d check on her and the rest of the shelter animals, but the camera feed wasn’t working, and I got nervous. I tried to call you to see if the feed was working on your app, but I got sent straight to voicemail.” Her face splits in a too-wide smile. “But at that point I was heading out for more dog food for Keanu anyway and realized I was driving right by the bowling alley, so I thought I’d pop in and ask you. So…here I am!”

She waves a shaking hand toward my phone as I bend and pick it up off the floor. “If you could just check the app for me really quickly, that would be great. If everything’s all good, you can delete the message without listening to it, and I’ll head out and leave you to your night of fun. You’re having fun, right? I mean, how could you not be having fun. Bowling is always a great time. I loved bowling as a kid, even though I was really bad at it.” She laughs, the sound strained as she motions toward my cell again. “So…is the app working for you? Are you going to check?”

I nod slowly, weighing my options as the wise voice inside insists that something is up here. Something’s fishy and I’d be willing to bet a year’s supply of Keanu Pale Ale, my favorite new beer, that Starling’s lying to me. I don’t know what about or have any idea why, but the inner voice has never led me astray.

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