The cab gets me to the office in an hour and twenty. I pay the driver and jump out of the cab like my ass is on fire. I race my way into the building and straight into a waiting elevator.

I jab at the button to my floor, impatiently watching the door close. Then, finally, it starts to ascend.

I tuck my shirt into my pants, and staring at my blurred reflection on the shiny metal walls of the elevator, I run my hands through my hair, trying to straighten it.

The elevator reaches my floor. The door opens, and Chrissy is waiting there with a coffee in hand.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” I take the coffee from her, and we start walking side by side in the direction of my office. “Has the meeting started yet?”

“No. Your parents pushed it back.”

“My mom pissed?”

Chrissy slides me a look. “What do you think?”

I think I’m dead.

“They’re waiting for you in your office with Morgan.”

“Okay.” I take a gulp of coffee.

“And your parents think that a pipe burst at your apartment and that you had to get the plumbers in, so that’s why you’re late.”

“You’re the best,” I tell her.

“Oh, I know.” She smirks.

My stomach growls loudly. I realize I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. No wonder I got so hammered last night.

“You hungry?”

“Apparently so.”

“I think there are some muffins and brownies in the conference room, but I’ll put an order in for waffles at your usual place.”

Waffles. Best pick-me-up food ever.

“Thanks, Chrissy. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d crash and burn. But, luckily for you, that will never happen ’cause I’m here to stay.”

“You’re due a pay raise soon, right?”

“Yep.” She grins.

We reach my office door. I take another drink of my coffee and hand it off to Chrissy.

She gives me an encouraging smile. “You’ve got this.”

I take a deep breath and pull my shoulders back. Then, I push open my door and walk in my office.

I hear Chrissy make a noise behind me, like a gasp, but I ignore her and stride confidently into my office.

“Mom, Dad.” I smile at them. “So sorry I’m late.”

My mom returns my smile, but I can see she’s pissed at me. The tightening around her mouth gives it away. I’ve seen that mouth tighten a lot over the years.

My dad greets me, coming over to pat my back. “Don’t worry, son. It’s not your fault you had plumbing problems.”

If I’d had plumbing problems, then I wouldn’t have been so late. I swallow down.

“Wilder, you remember Morgan.” My mom gestures to my sofa.

For the first time in nine years, my eyes take in Morgan Stickford.

And, holy fuck, she’s changed.

“Yes, of course.” I walk forward to greet her, my eyes fixed on her.

She rises to her feet, her lips pressing into a smile. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her smile in my direction. I used to get a sneer, and that was on a good day.

Dad makes a strangled noise behind me, but I’m too busy taking in Morgan to pay him any mind.

Because hello, hottie.

Morgan Stickford is all grown-up. And she’s a full-fledged babe.

She was pretty in college. But, now, she’s a fucking knockout. She’s thinner than she used to be, but she’s still rocking those curves in all the right places.

She’s wearing a pale pink pencil dress that has a slit up the front, finishing mid thigh, showing enough of her gorgeous tan legs to tease. The dress hugs her body, showcasing her amazing figure.

Jesus, her body is smoking.

She looks the same but different. Still fresh-faced. But, now, she wears a little more makeup than she used to in college. Pouty lips painted pink. Wide brown eyes lined with thick black lashes, staring back at me, not giving anything away, but they look a hell of a lot warmer than they used to look at me back in college. Her long, straight honey-blonde hair is down, falling around her shoulders.

She’s stunning.

She looks like she should be modeling our product, not selling it.

“It’s great to see you again,” I say. And it really fucking is.

Her smile widens, showing a slip of her white teeth. Then, she parts her lips to speak—hopefully to say, Please fuck me, Wilder, although that’s not likely, as my parents are here—when my mom’s voice slices through the air.

“Wilder! What is on the back of your shirt?”

I stop at the shrill tone of my mom’s voice, my eyes jerking in her direction. “What?” I ask, confused.

“Your shirt!” Mom starts to advance on me, clear anger in her eyes.

My shirt? What the hell is she talking about?

Before my mom can reach me, I turn to look at myself in the wall mirror on the other side of my office. As I move, I see Chrissy’s wide eyes, her lips pressed tightly together. I catch sight of my dad, and his fist is pressed to his lips. He’s clearly fighting laughter.

What the fuck is going on?

Then, I hear Morgan gasp. I swing my eyes back to hers, and the warmth that was in them has been replaced with barely concealed disgust.

What the hell is happening here right now?

Pulling my eyes from Morgan, I turn my back to the mirror, looking at it over my shoulder, trying to see what everyone else is seeing, and—

No. That can’t be. Surely not.

I squint my eyes, trying to take in what I’m seeing. I back up, so I’m closer to the mirror, my eyes glued to it, and all too soon, it becomes clear.

“What the hell?” I hiss.

How did that get there?

Well, I have a pretty good idea how it got there. I just don’t know when it was put there. Or why the fuck someone would do that.

How the hell did I not see this when I was getting dressed?

I know I was bleary-eyed, and the room was semidark, but it’s not like you can frigging miss it.

Because written there, on the back of my light-gray shirt, in clear black ink is…

Last night was incredible! You really are Wild. ;)

Call me if you want to fuck again.

847-206-7841

xoxo

Holy. Frigging. Hell.