Easton
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rachel bites, anger burning in her eyes.
I deserve it. I’ve worked her over all night, ready to have a wild time, right up until Zach brought over the very woman I’m desperate to get off my mind.
“It’s not a good night for me.” It’s not a total lie.
“You seemed just fine earlier,” she argues. “This is bullshit, Easton.”
“I’ll call you,” I lie, pushing the car door open without bothering to see her in.
She glares at me as she slides past and out the door. “Don’t fucking bother.” She slams the door behind her.
I exhale a chuckle, resting my head back and raking my hands over my face.
Clint rolls down the partition. “Where to?”
“Home.”
He studies me from the rearview mirror. “Bad night, sir?”
He’s been with me close to six years and has been around me almost every day of that. Of course he can tell.
I take a deep cleansing breath. “It’s been a few months.”
Clint doesn’t say anything else until we pull up to the entry of my apartment building. “You’ll figure it out, Langley. You always do. Just make sure it’s the right decision for the right reason.”
I flash a quick weak smile. “Goodnight, Clint.”
The sound of the elevator doors opening into my empty home echoes loudly. I toss my keys on the entryway table directly across and stride down the hall to the kitchen. I pour a glass of bourbon and stand in front of the large sliding glass door. The city of Denver is spread out below me. Lights burn in a steady glow colliding with the darkness of the sky behind it. Tiny vehicles move along tangled lines of streets between the jumbled shapes of the buildings.
I sigh into the night. Rachel isn’t the first woman I’ve blown off and let down. Ashley was so pissed off at me she couldn’t wait to get away and ended up dropping half her shit out her purse and into my car as she bolted.
Why? Because Zoey. She consumes my thoughts and I can’t figure out why. Every time I try to have a good night with someone else, there’s a nagging voice telling me I’m doing wrong. It’s hard to get excited, let alone perform, when the sound of nails on a chalkboard is in your ear.
Seeing her flirting with Zach tonight…that splintered something in my head. It was strange, frightening even. The amount of anger I had for my friend, I couldn’t suppress. Zach’s always been the tester—testing his limits, pushing people to see how far they’ll go. I’ve talked about her plenty and he was trying me, gauging my reaction. Even after Zoey left, I held my tongue, not giving in to his little game.
Me: Did you book my hotel for next week?
Of course I know she did. I read the confirmation, but it’s the only thing I’ve got right now to reach out.
Zoey: Yes. Check your calendar. I added it there.
I chuckle, hearing her voice as if she’s standing in front of me, and then take a slow sip of my bourbon.
Zoey: It’s Saturday night. You should have other things on your mind besides work.
If she only knew.
Me: I wish it were that easy.
Zoey: I’ve got my part handled. Please don’t worry.
Me: It was good seeing you tonight.
Zoey: I hope you know Zachary put me up to that.
Me: You two had an intriguing scheme.
Zoey: He paid me with a drink.
Me: I’m glad we could bring you some joy to your Saturday night. Good night, Zoey.
Zoey: Good night.
I toss my phone to the couch and twist back to the city.
On my way to work this morning, I stopped and grabbed a coffee from the shop down the street from work. While there, I grabbed Zoey a caramel latte, something I overheard her speak about.
Stepping off the elevator, she’s the first thing I see. Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulder, the hot pink shirt causing it to shine brighter. She looks up and smiles.
“Grabbed you something,” I say.
She eyes me dubiously. “What’s this for?”
I smirk. “I was out and thought of you.”
It was faint, but I saw the little gasp. She takes a small sip, her eyes closing, and she hums before her lips twist up with appreciation.
“Your favorite, right?” I ask with a nod.
“How’d you know?”
Again, I smirk. “Good guess,” I say and make my way into my office.
I’m looking over some papers when she steps in. She’s carrying a smile, but there’s something else in her eyes…irritation, maybe?
“Here are your reports.” She hands me the files.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You know I could’ve emailed them to you. You didn’t have to come in right before your flight.”
I rest back in my chair. “Is that so? I appreciate the permission,” I say with laughter.
“I mean…” she swallows her own laugh. “Your flight is in just a few hours. You should’ve slept in or something.”
“Sleeping in? What’s that?”
“Something you should do every Saturday and Sunday. You should try it. It’ll make you feel better.”
I arch a brow. “How would you know if I needed to feel better?”
“Your eyes, sir. They’re tired.”
Her voice is tender, caring, and it tightens a vise in my chest. I nod. “Note to self: try Zoey’s advice.”
She grins, but questions remain.
“Talk,” I say.
Her face pinches. “I’m sorry?”
Leaning up to my desk, I rest my elbows. “Just as much as my tiredness rests on my eyes, apprehension is on yours. What’s on that brilliant mind of yours?”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing to bother you about, sir.”
“It’s not a bother, more a morbid curiosity now.”
She glances out the window before answering me. “Does it ever get old? All the women throwing themselves at your feet, begging you to be the father of their babies?”
I’m surprised, but she continues.
“What is so special about Easton Langley that they stoop to such measures? Have you screwed them all?” Suddenly, she realizes what she just asked and she sucks in a gasp, slapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I’m sorry, sir.” It’s garbled by her hand.
I keep my view on her. For some strange reason her opinion of me matters. “You’re fiery this morning. Must be the latte,” I say unashamed. “But to answer your question. No. I haven’t and I don’t know the answer. Truthfully, it’s baffling and unappealing.”
“It’s none of my business. I’m sorry,” she repeats.
“You must have a reason for asking,” I state.
She shifts. “When I first started, you mentioned them…” she trails off. “There are a lot of them weekly.”
I nod.
“Anyway, you asked, I told. I’m sorry.”
“You do a lot of apologizing,” I tell her. “For the record, I’m not mad about the other night with you and Zach.”
She stifles a giggle. “He really did put me up to it. Bribed me with a drink. I’m sure it was weird your best friend hitting on your assistant.”
Oh, if she only knew…
“You could say that,” I say.
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and I fantasize about what that part of her neck would smell like. Sweet and soft? “Your flight leaves in about three hours. I’ll let you get back to it.”
She’s hiding something—something innocent, something I’ve seen before—desire. I smile at the thought.
Her ass sways from side to side, but it’s not purposely over exaggerated. It’s natural. The flow of her hips controlling the curve of her ass.
Get a grip, Langley.