Page 16 of Reputation (Tempt)

“Nate?” she asked, snapping me out of my fantasy where she played a starring role.

“No. That’s not it.”

“You want to work out with me?”

“Um.” I furrowed my brow, my body immediately reacting to her statement, my imagination running wild with all sorts of ideas about our “workout.” God, that wasn’t helping. “No.”

Her expression remained nonchalant even as her eyes sparkled with challenge. “I get it. You’re scared you can’t keep up.”

“Thorne,” I scoffed. “I can keep up.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. She was much more playful now that I’d lightened up a little. I liked it, even if I was still struggling to maintain those boundaries. She might live in my home, but I was still her boss.

She eyed me with a fair bit of skepticism. “I’m not so sure about that.”

I leaned forward, pressing my palms to the counter. “I’d be more than happy to prove you wrong.”

“Mm. Maybe someday you cantry. Now, back to this favor,” she said. “You want me to drive the McLaren.”

I barked out a laugh. “Also no.” Though I wondered if she wanted to drive it. Hell, who wouldn’t? It was a gorgeous car, and imagining her long legs behind the steering wheel had me hardening.

Fuck. What is wrong with me?

This blonde bombshell, that was what. This was exactly why I’d avoided her in the past. Not because I’d wanted to be rude, but because I was trying to be professional.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Tell me.”

“Brooklyn wants to have a slumber party at the Huxley Grand for her birthday. There will be about six girls, including Brooklyn and Sophia. I know Brooklyn would love if you came, and I’m sure the other parents would feel more comfortable if a female adult was there. I’ll pay overtime?—”

She rolled her eyes. “Brooklyn already mentioned it. Of course I’ll be there. And no, you’re not paying me overtime.”

“Yes. I am.” I was adamant. I valued her time, and I’d never want her to feel like I’d taken advantage of the situation, especially in light of her recent comments.

You don’t want me here.

I’m not valued.

But she’d turned down my offer to pay her more—both then and now. Clearly, I needed to get more creative with showing Emerson my appreciation. The Birkin was a start, as was the additional time off, but I didn’t intend to stop there.

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I won’t accept the money. I want to be there.”

When I opened my mouth to protest again, she held up a hand. “Consider it part of Brooklyn’s birthday gift.”

“What about your training schedule? I don’t want the lack of sleep to interfere with your recovery.” I knew from experience how important rest could be to recovery. Some of my roles in the past had required me to pack on muscle. And it was exhausting.

“One night won’t make or break me.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“It’ll be fun.”

A night at a luxury hotel with Emerson did sound like fun. Only, in my head, it didn’t include six preteen girls. I sighed and stared at the ceiling. I hoped I wouldn’t regret this.

* * *

Even before Iopened the front door, I could hear the music playing. I rounded the corner to the living room and spied Brooklyn and Emerson. They didn’t see me, so I hung back and watched as Brooklyn handed the microphone to Emerson.

Emerson hopped up on the couch and started belting out the lyrics, something about staying out too late. And then when it came to the chorus, she jumped down and started dancing around the room, shaking her hips in the most hypnotic way.

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