Chapter Fourteen – Mellie

 

Upside #14: The remote control is all mine. But that also means moving to get it, sometimes…

 

“This is a mess,” I said.

“So is this guy’s submission. You’d think he’d let the cuts heal before taking the photo.” Peyton turned her eleven-inch laptop around so we could see the screen.

I winced. I did not need to see anyone’s penis this early in the morning. Or at all.

“Peyt. Seriously.” Chloe grabbed the top of the screen and closed it down. “I’m trying to eat, and Mellie is in crisis.”

“Mellie’s always in crisis. It’s in her DNA. If it weren’t from this, it’ll be from the papercut she got opening the donut bag.”

I wanted to argue that, but…she was right.

The papercut really hurt, actually.

I groaned and leaned forward on the table, burying my face in my hands.

“Do you ever think we should work out more, considering the number of donuts we eat?” Peyton asked.

“Peyton,” Chloe snapped. “We just did yoga, but that’s not the point! Do you always have to be the bad cop?”

“Yes. You’re the good cop. That’s how this works. Someone needs to give tough love in this friendship.”

I groaned again.

Peyton tugged at my hair. “Mellie, it doesn’t matter. You know that. He’s your boss.”

I sat up and looked at her. “That’s reassuring.”

“Hush.” She held a finger up to her lips. “It’s just a kiss. One kiss. That’s all. It’s not like you can’t come back from that. You just go in there tomorrow, put your foot down, and tell him this isn’t happening. That it’s unprofessional, it won’t work, and it’s completely ridiculous to think that it might happen.”

I blinked at her. “I’m not that great at putting my foot down.”

“Are you kidding?” Chloe laughed. “Do you not remember when Rex Tyson tried to call you out for not putting out in senior year? You literally threw a test tube at his head and told him if he’d had a little thing called respect, you might have screwed him that weekend.”

“That’s not putting my foot down.”

“Oh! I remember that!” Peyton clapped her hands, almost dropping her pink donut in the process. “Right after, when he apologized, you told him in no uncertain terms the only thing that would be putting out that weekend was his hand when he thought about you in the shower.”

“Oh,” I muttered. “I remember that.”

“Just do it again,” Chloe continued. “You know as well as we do that work relationships don’t work.”

Peyton rolled her eyes. “From the girl in love with her business partner.”

“I am not in love with your brother!” Chloe smacked her hand against the table.

“And I’m a virgin,” I said immediately. “Work relationships don’t work. You’re right. I mean, he’s handsome and a really great guy, but he’s my boss. That’s just asking for trouble.”

My best friends both nodded in agreement.

Right. So I had to lay out the law. I’d done it once already, hadn’t I? No talking about my boobs.

I could do it again.

No kissing.

Except I didn’t regret it.

I didn’t regret kissing him when he’d grabbed hold of me. How could I? It’d been the most electric kiss I’d ever had, and I’d been unable to think of anything else since. I’d been the one to put my foot in it about the kiss the night before.

What was I expecting?

An apology?

No. I knew I wouldn’t get one. You didn’t kiss a girl the way he kissed me and apologize for it, because you didn’t kiss anyone like that if you didn’t mean it.

And if you apologized for something you meant, you were an idiot.

Especially when a kiss felt the way it had.

But I could put my foot down. If he kissed me again, I knew there’d be no coming back from it. There’d be no way I’d be able to work with him.

I had to tell him that was it. That was the first and only kiss we could share. It didn’t matter that I didn’t regret it, something he knew, it just mattered that it never happened again.

Nothing good ever came from kissing your boss.

Not once, not twice, not ever.

“Put my foot down. I can do that.” I nodded.

Chloe’s phone rang, and she got up from the table to grab it from it sofa. She missed the call by seconds, but she froze, leaning toward the window on one leg. “Uhh…Does Jacob drive an Audi?”

I jerked my head up. “Yes.”

“Does he have dark hair and wear a white shirt like hookers wear thongs?”

Peyton choked on her coffee.

“Um…yes,” I answered.

“Does he have an ass like a giant, ripe peach?” Chloe continued, craning her neck.

I rubbed my nose. “I mean, I haven’t looked, but…”

“Filthy liar,” Peyton snapped.

“Yes! He has an ass like a giant, ripe peach! My God!”

Chloe grimaced, turning around to face me. “Does he show up randomly at your house?”

I jumped out of my chair. “Shut up! No!”

She pointed at the door. “There’s a hot guy who just pulled up in an Audi unexpectedly with dark hair, who wears a white shirt the way hookers wear thongs and has an ass like a giant, ripe peach.”

Three loud knocks sounded at my door.

“Oh God!” I moaned, clutching at my stomach. “I have to hide. Can you stall him?”

Peyton grinned. A shit-eating warning grin.

“Actually, no, never mind,” I whispered harshly. “Peyton, you go out the back, I’ll hide, and Chloe can get rid of him!”

Peyt shook her head. “Not a chance. Who is it?” she added, shouting the last three words.

I clapped my hands over my mouth. Not only was this not a good time because I was still freaking out over the kissing, but we’d not long finished a yoga DVD, and I was still sweaty and gross. Not to mention I was pretty sure I’d pulled a muscle.

And the powder. I was covered in donut sugar, okay?

“Uh… It’s Jake,” came the reply through the door.

Peyt waggled her eyebrows. “Jake, eh?”

I glared at her then stuck my middle finger up in her direction. “I hate you.”

The door hinges creaked, and the next thing I knew, Chloe was standing in the door frame. “Hi!” she said in an upbeat tone. “I’m Chloe.” She shoved her hand at him.

“Jake,” he replied slowly, taking her hand. “Is Mellie here?”

“She’s here, but she might be hiding.”

Peyton burst out laughing. My cheeks flamed red, and I stormed across the room and tugged her away from the door.

“Hi. Excuse her. She didn’t take her meds this morning,” I said.

Chloe poked my cheek. “Hello, Mommy. Did you bring me my cookies?”

Peyton, still laughing, stood up. “Okay, Chlo, drop it. Let’s go. We have work to do.”

I spun around as she slipped her laptop into her purse. “And you need to leave to do that? You literally just showed us a penis photo.”

“Your house doesn’t have the right Feng Shui.”

“You’ve never looked up Feng Shui!”

She pointed a finger in my direction. “You don’t know my life!”

Jake blinked between the three of us.

Chloe grabbed hold of her purse and then Peyton’s arm. “We’re going. Call us later, okay?”

Jake moved out of the way while Chloe dragged Peyton out of my house.

“And don’t forget to put your foot down on the kissing thing!” Peyton shouted, eyes sparkling. The last I saw of her was a large, mischievous grin right before Jake shoved the door shut on her.

I collapsed back onto my sofa and buried my face in my hands. “Thank you for that.”

“Me or her?” he asked.

“Her sarcastically, you genuinely.” I dropped my hand. “This isn’t awkward at all.”

Jake grinned, half-stuffing his hands into his pockets. “If it helps, I was here to talk about the “kissing thing.””

“Not really.” I swung my legs up onto the sofa and tucked my feet close to my ass. “I was hoping to not talk about it, but my friends are so helpful.”

“If they know, you’ve been talking about it.”

“I’m not going to sit here and feed your ego.” I jumped up off the sofa and walked to the kitchen. “I don’t want to discuss this at all.” I pulled a donut from the bag and bit into it without looking.

Sprinkles.

Bah.

I darted to the trash can and spat my mouthful into it, followed swiftly by the rest of the donut.

“Did I just see you spit out donut?” Jake joined me in the kitchen, eyebrows raised.

I looked down. “I hate sprinkles,” I said quietly. “It’s like rolling sugar in my mouth.”

“You hate sprinkles?”

“I hate sprinkles,” I repeated. Then pulled the last sugar donut out of the bag, leaving the two sprinkled ones left.

My phone rang. Chloe’s name flashed on the screen, and I hit “answer” then “speaker.” “What?” I demanded.

“I left my donuts,” Peyton whined. “Can you open the door and give them to me?”

“Sure. Two seconds.” I hung up, grabbed the bag, and walked toward my living room window. Jake’s eyebrows shot up, and Chloe’s eyes widened when I opened the door, brandishing the brown bag.

“Peyton!” Chloe shouted.

“Your stupid bakery put my donuts in with your stupid sprinkles! I ate one and threw it out!” I called out of the window. “And for the stunt you just pulled, Peyton Austin—”

“Don’t throw my donuts!” she hollered, jumping down my steps.

“—you can catch them!”

Sadly, she caught them. But I pointed two fingers at my eyes, then at her. Her response was to make the universal blow-job sign with her hand and her tongue.

I was told I’d grow up.

Someone was wrong.

I tugged the window shut and turned around. Jake was now perched on the edge of my kitchen table. His lips were curved in amusement and his arms were folded across his chest like he was watching a stand-up comedy show live.

He probably was, in all honesty.

“So. This isn’t awkward at all,” I said, wringing my fingers.

He quirked a brow. “I actually came here to talk about what happened, but it seems like you’ve already decided what you need to say.”

I dropped my hands and put them on my hips. “Yes. That, um, the kiss. It can’t happen again.”

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.

“We work together. It’s completely inappropriate.”

He titled his head to the side, lips twitching.

“You’re my boss. It was a mistake. It can’t happen again.”

“All right,” Jake said.

All right.

Just all right.

“All right?” I repeated. “You didn’t come here to tell me that.”

“How do you know what I came here to say?”

“I don’t, but I’d bet good money it wasn’t to tell me it can’t happen again.” I twirled a loose thread from the hem of my shirt around my finger lightly.

He blew out a long breath. “You’re right. It wasn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re correct. It can’t happen again.”

I blinked at him. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Don’t look so shocked, spitfire. You’re the one who just said it.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to agree with me.”

“That’s obvious by the look on your face.” He pushed off the table and walked toward. “Look. It happened. I’m not going to stand in front of you and deny that I’m extremely attracted to you. Without even considering the fact I’ve seen your boobs.”

I grimaced.

He tried not to laugh. “But, you’re right. We work together. It’s bad enough working with you now when you argue with me over desk space and the whole toilet seat thing.”

“Still not forgiven for that, by the way.”

“See? That’s my point. If this is bad, I can’t imagine how intolerable you’d be if I did something like made your coffee wrong or left the toilet seat up at your house as well as at work.”

The image of me cussing him out because of the toilet seat while he made coffee, shirtless in my kitchen, flashed through my mind.

I beat it away. There was no place for it. Not in my mind and not in reality.

Tell that to the butterfly making me feel sick in my stomach.

“And the money I’d have to spend to baby-proof this house so you don’t hurt yourself?” He shook his head. “Why has nobody done that, actually?”

“Because I pretty much only hurt myself when you’re around. There’s a link. You called me; I stubbed my toe. You on my sofa, I kicked the table. You in the street, I trip on a cobblestone. You scare me; I take out half the office. You see the pattern here?”

“Yes. You’re determined to fall at my feet.” He grinned.

I stared at him, reaffirming my stance with my hands on my hips. “In your dreams. We’ve spent way too much time together outside of work, and that’s why we kissed. It’s that simple. We know each other more than the average boss and employee.”

“True. And we can change that.”

“He says while standing in my house.”

He held up his hands. “I came here to clear the air before work tomorrow, and that’s what we’re doing.”

I nodded once. “Right. So, we’re clear. Just work. We’re not friends, just boss and employee. And there will be no more discussing my boobs. And we definitely can’t kiss again.”

“Boss and employee, not friends. No more boob-talk. And we can’t kiss again,” he summarized.

“Perfect.”

Our eyes met, and the silence that stretched between us was heavy. Thick and uncomfortable, almost as if it were full of lies.

“Well, I hope like hell you have more resolve than I do,” Jake said softly, breaking the silence while keeping his gaze locked on mine.

“Wh—why is that?” I was afraid to ask—to hear the answer.

I was right to be.

He reached out, and his fingertips grazed across my temple as he tucked my hair behind my ear. “Just because I can’t kiss you again, doesn’t mean I won’t.”

I swallowed, stepping back. “That’s not how it works.”

“I know.” Jake put his hands in his pockets, briefly glancing away before his gaze collided with mine once again. “Which is why I hope you’re a stronger person than I am.”

He turned on those last words and walked toward my front door. He put his hand on the handle, and I said, “I thought you weren’t sorry.”

He looked over his shoulder, gray eyes shining as they found mine. “I’m not. Let’s make it clear, Mellie.” He dropped the handle and walked straight back to me, stopping right in front of me so I had to crane my neck back to look at him. “I’m not sorry. I could kiss you right now, and apart from kicking myself for breaking the one rule I just made, I still wouldn’t be sorry.” He cupped my chin, tilting his face down to mine. “Wanting to kiss you and refusing to doesn’t make me regret the fact I did. It makes me regret the fact I had to be the person who bought your hotel, but at the same time, if I hadn’t bought it, I would never know who the crazy, attitude-filled, beautiful blonde who flashed me was.”

“I’m confused,” I said quietly.

“Yeah. Try being in my head.” He half-smiled. “Don’t confuse me doing the right thing with not wanting you.”

I tried to reply to that, but I couldn’t. Which was a good thing, because this time, when Jake went to the door, I wasn’t stupid enough to speak and stop him. I stood in silence and watched him leave.

The click of the door as it shut echoed through my silent house.

I blew out a long breath and fell back onto my sofa. My heart was pounding wildly, and I didn’t even know just how hard until now. Now he was gone, and I was alone and I had to process what he’d just said.

None of it made sense.

I’d done what I’d had to do. I’d put my foot down. Made it clear where I stood.

He’d tried to do the same, but instead of clearing the air, I was afraid he’d started a storm.

Because if he was expecting me to be the stronger person…he was wrong.

If he kissed me again—today, tomorrow, a month from now, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be pushing him away.

And that meant I was in trouble.

It also meant I needed to grow a pair, but I’d think about that tomorrow when my heart wasn’t trying to kill me and my legs weren’t screaming in pain.

Instead, I planned to run a hot bath and do what all women did when men said dumb shit: overthink it until I’d successfully solved why penguins can’t fly.