The rest of the week surges into the next and I find myself slowly getting into the swing of things.
But I am so freaking bored.
Every day, I file, I run errands, I grab coffee, I copy. I’ve faxed, scanned, and copied so many things, I think this room on the third floor could be my new home.
Understandably this is the life of an intern, but this just hadn’t been the expectation. Per my dad’s promises, I expected a more hands-on experience. I wanted to see things in action, sit in on meetings, depo hearings, just more. Most importantly, I wanted to see a court case up close and personal. But every day, he leaves me in his office and I do homework like I’m a child hanging out after school, waiting for my dad so I can get a ride home.
But there has been one particularly stimulating part of this job—Landon West. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I swear I feel his eyes on me everywhere. We haven’t had lunch since the first day, but he always checks in to make sure I’ve eaten before he sends out for food. His eyes seem to follow me around the room whenever we are in the same place.
We rode in the elevator alone today and with each passing floor, I could feel something crackling between us. His gaze traced the side of my face for the duration of the ten floor ascension, his tall, lean body pressed against the wall of the elevator with his hands in his pockets. I was too afraid to even breathe, let alone look at him. As soon as we got to our floor I all but fled from the elevator without a look in his direction. After that, I felt his gaze on me for the rest of the day. He even followed me to the copy room and stared at me from across the room when I was delegated the basic task of scanning a memo.
What is he doing to me?
I’m staring at the ceiling of my bedroom going over and over that tense interaction in the elevator just as my phone begins to ring.
Heavy breathing fills my ears and for a moment I consider hanging up, thinking that the unknown number that called me in the middle of the night is some sort of prank…or the beginning of a scary movie. But then his silky voice washes over me like warm honey and I have to hold my breath to prevent myself from letting the gasp escape my lips.
“Mitchell.” I blink my eyes a few times and sit further up in bed, tossing my iPad to the side. I tuck some hair behind my ear and flatten my messy bed-head with my hand as if he can see me.
Mr. West is on the tip of my tongue, but after our interaction today, I decide to let his name fall from my lips in a whisper. “Landon?”
The silence is deafening and my heart pounds in my chest. The pounding is even more aggressive between my legs. My cheeks slowly heat up and I hold my breath so he doesn’t hear my ragged intakes of air. What is happening? Is this an orgasm? I’ve been turned on before but never…like this. I can hear his breathing, but the silence stretches on, neither of us saying anything.
“Shit.” I hear him grumble and the word must have a direct line to my clit because it throbs instantly. I look around my room, trying to find something that will calm my erratic heartbeat that is pounding between my legs and my eyes find a picture on my dresser of me my mom, Skyler, and my dad.
Not helping.
“I called the wrong Mitchell,” I hear from the other end. “I meant…” he slurs slightly and I’m starting to understand the reason for this 2 AM phone call. “I meant to call P.”
“Well, you’ve got me,” I quip. My eyes widen at the words I’ve let slip and the potential implication. I fiddle with my glasses as I nervously wait for his response.
“I do,” he murmurs, and I wonder if it wasn’t meant for me to hear.
“Where are you?”
“Bar.” He grunts. “Can’t find my fucking keys.” I hear shuffling through the phone and faint noises in the background and a surge of jealousy courses through my veins as I think about a possible woman there.
“Well, you shouldn’t be driving anyway. I would hope the bartender would have taken them from you.”
“Oh. Maybe. Shit. Did you take my fucking keys?” He barks to someone. “That’s a two hundred thousand dollar car, don’t even think about it.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s trying to save your life, Landon. You shouldn’t be driving. Besides, what kind of message are you teaching your son, if you do what he’s in trouble for?”
He’s silent and for a split second I wonder if I’ve gone too far. “I should take you over my knee for that.”
I ignore the moisture leaking out between my legs and wetting my panties. I rub my legs together trying to quiet the roar between them. God, how do women live like this? It’s this intense, every time you get turned on? I lift the hem of my underwear and see the moisture glistening between my thighs. Holy cow. I realize I haven’t said anything, so I stammer out an apology. “I…Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“You’re damn right it’s not…But shit, if you aren’t right.”
I lick my lips, trying to wet the dryness in my mouth and I let out a breath. “Were you calling my dad to come get you?”
“Yeah.”
“You know there’s an Uber app for that.”
“Ubers are for millennials and underaged kids who get drunk at bars,” he slurs.
I purse my lips, as a scowl finds my face. “How else do you suggest getting home?”
“My responsible best friend who usually picks me up.”
“I can come get you,” I blurt out before I have the chance to think that this is not a good idea. I feel the line blurring, and I find myself in uncharted territory with Landon West. I saw the way he looked at me, and I can’t help but look at him the same way.
Intrigue. Curiosity. Forbidden interest.
Something is happening between us and it’s happening fast. At twenty-one, I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I’ve kissed exactly two boys, neither of which with my tongue and yet I find myself wanting to run mine over every inch of Landon.
Oh my God.
“I don’t want you out at 2 AM by yourself, Serena.” His voice is authoritative and I can almost hear the growl in his tone.
“How else are you going to get home?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I’m off the bed and pulling a sweatshirt over my head and a pair of shorts over my bare legs. I cradle the phone between my ear and my shoulder and grab my keys. “Text me your location. I’m coming to get you.” I hang up the phone without another word. While I’m waiting for his response, I rush into my bathroom and brush my teeth. I pull my hair out of the messy bun and let it fall down my back in waves before swiping some peach lip balm across my lips. Right on cue my phone chirps from the other room.
Unknown Number: Old Town Irish Pub. Do not get out of the car. Text when you’re here.
I frown, wondering why I’m not allowed to get out of the car. Is he embarrassed to be seen with me? I’m sure being picked up by a college student isn’t high on his list of proud moments. My phone pings again.
Unknown Number: I mean it, Serena.
I pull up to the bar and crane my neck towards the entrance to see if I see him. When I don’t, I pull my phone out and dial his number. When he doesn’t respond I text him to let him know I’m here before attempting to call him again. After ten minutes of waiting, I decide to go in against his warning. I certainly don’t want to be waiting out here all night. I push through the doors of the dive bar and I’m immediately hit with the smell of booze, smoke, and a smell I don’t recognize. A round of catcalls ring through the air and I feel everyone’s eyes on me. To say I’m out of my element is the understatement of the century. I find myself wishing I had a can of pepper spray or at least some basic knowledge of self-defense. I swallow as I try to back out of the bar to bolt towards the safety of my car.
The establishment is dim, the wallpaper drab and dingy and in desperate need of repapering. A bar sits in the middle of the room, a pool table is set up in the corner, and a dartboard hangs on the other side. High top tables line the perimeter with bottles of cheap beer and high balls of whiskey glasses littering the surfaces. The poor lighting gives everyone a yellow-ish glow underneath the fog of cigarette smoke.
I didn’t know people could still smoke indoors?
“Hey, baby. You looking for me?” I hear from behind me as I’m still backing up, and shivers run down my spine—but not in the good way. I spin around to find a man in his mid-thirties dressed in a suit, his black hair falling over his forehead and eyes so dark and sinister I panic that I’ve come face to face with Satan himself.
“No…” I stammer. “I…” I start to walk in the opposite direction since he’s blocking the door, trying to get away from the creepy man when I walk right into a wall of muscle.
“What did I fucking tell you?” His voice is low in my ear and when I look up I’m staring at a very angry Landon West. He towers over me, his build engulfing my small frame as he wraps his arms around me and tucks me into his side. “Unless you want me to rip your eyes from your face, I suggest you move it the fuck along,” he says through gritted teeth at Lucifer. His hands are firmly wrapped around me and I take a minute to press my face into his jacket.
Gosh, he smells good.
Clean and manly. Like fresh laundry and whiskey.
The other man chuckles. “Good for you, dude, what did you pluck her out of grade school?”
I groan inwardly, feeling embarrassed that the vast age gap between us has been brought up yet again, and when I look up Landon looks ready to rip his head off. Before I can suggest it’s time for us to go, we’re on the move out of the bar without another glance.
“Car, Serena. Before I go back there and get my ass disbarred.” I point at the silver Audi, an early graduation present from my parents that is sitting a few spaces from the entrance to the bar. He all but pushes me into the car before slamming my door shut and climbing in next to me. “I told you to wait in the car.”
“You weren’t answering. I called and texted you. I waited for like ten minutes,” I say in my defense. I don’t want him to be mad at me, and I definitely don’t want to get him into any trouble.
“You can’t follow simple instructions? Fuck, your father would have my head if he knew you were in a place like that.”
My father would have your head if he saw the way you look at me. The words are on the tip of my tongue but I swallow them down.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I tell him and, in this moment, my body has started to recognize the proximity of Landon West to me. My insides start to hum as I survey the enclosed space. He is close enough for me to reach out to touch, to grab, to…I bite my lip and keep my eyes trained forward, not wanting to look at the gorgeous creature to my right.
“You’re trouble, Serena.”
“I think you’re confusing me with the wrong Mitchell sister. I am far from trouble.” I had never been a partier. However, my younger sister, Skyler, is always the life of the party, and she drags me along with her every once in a while—mostly when mom and dad demand she needs a chaperone. She’s outgoing and fun and everyone wants to be around her. I, on the other hand, am the shy, introverted wallflower that would rather spend her Saturday nights inside, reading a book or cooking with Mama.
“No…” He shakes his head and scrubs a hand over his jaw and the sounds of his fingers over his scruff pierce the silence. “You’re trouble…for me.”
His words make my heart slam into my ribcage. I always thought that boys didn’t seem to notice me much. Skyler says they notice me all the time, but I’m too uptight to pay them the time of day. That wasn’t exactly true. They just made me nervous. I wore my feelings on my face and I could blush crimson red at the drop of a hat.
According to Skyler, I have no chill.
I realize I haven’t started the car, but I can’t bring myself to break the tension. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
“A what now?” His eyebrows almost fly to his hairline.
I adjust my position on the soft leather as I prepare to ask the question I’ve been dying to know since I saw them this morning. “Olivia? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”
“Oh…honey…no.”
I scoff at his reaction. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I wasn’t…I…” he huffs. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he snaps, though I can tell he regrets it.
Somewhere in the distance I hear laughter, and my eyes zero in on a drunk couple stumbling by. I wish my life were that carefree. Ever. I turn back to Landon. “I didn’t say you did, but you’re breaking about a hundred rules, you know.”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern. Unless of course…you’re jealous.”
“That’s absurd, and I wouldn’t insult the person who’s driving you home, Mr. West.” I finally find the urge to start the car, and the engine hums. Am I jealous? Do I want to be Olivia?
Don’t be dense, Serena. Of course you do. That pesky inner voice—that often takes on the lilting tone of my younger sister, Skyler—perks up.
“Nice car.”
“Thank you.”
“I bet you’ve had some fun in it.” He gives me a boyish grin and I wonder how many girls have gotten into trouble as a result of that smile.
I narrow my eyebrows wondering what his words mean. “I haven’t had it very long, so I haven’t done anything too crazy.”
“I lost my virginity in an Audi.” He chuckles. “My father’s to be exact. He was pissed when he found the condom wrapper. But mostly because my mother thought it was his…” He shakes his head and I hear the hurt in his voice despite his dark humor regarding his father’s infidelity.
“I certainly don’t plan to lose mine in one,” I blurt out. I hadn’t meant to come off bitchy or superior but I worry that’s exactly how I sounded; like the uptight girl who is saving herself for marriage or Prince Charming or God.
When I don’t hear a response, I turn my head towards him and he’s gaping at me as if he has no idea what to say. “Your father will be so proud.”
Not where I thought that was going.
I blink at him. “Excuse me?”
“I mean…”
“I would appreciate if you kept my sex life, or lack thereof, out of your topics of conversation with my father.”
“No father wants to hear about their child having sex. He’ll be pleased to know that you’re still…pure.” His words sound innocent but the look in his eye and the tone of his voice is anything but.
“Can we stop this now?”
“Why are you a virgin?”
So, that’s a no on ending this conversation then? “Because I am?”
“I just…how?”
“Like biologically?”
“Smart ass,” he grumbles, but I see a smile playing at his lips. “You know what I mean.”
“I just…I haven’t met the right guy, I guess.”
“Ah, Mr. Right.”
“Not necessarily. I would be okay with losing it to Mr. Right Now, but I haven’t found him either.”
“I find it hard to believe you have trouble getting a date.” I look away from the steering wheel and find his gaze which is fixed on my bare legs. I snap my eyes away from him, hoping he didn’t see me.
“I’m busy. I go to school and I’m very committed to my work. I’m graduating next semester, and now I’m working at your firm. I just don’t have time.”
He squares his shoulders, his posture rigid, and I find myself wanting to run my hands over the sharp ridges of his body. “I happen to see the way some of the interns look at you.” His voice is even but I can hear the irritation. I can feel his growl rattling through my bones.
“Me?” I squeak.
“Yes, particularly when you wear that navy pencil skirt of yours. Or that black dress that flares out at your hips. Really anything that shows off your legs. Seriously, do you own a fucking pair of pants?”
I shrug. “I like dresses and skirts.”
“Yeah, so do half the men at our firm. It drives me fucking insane.”
“You say the F-word a lot.”
He throws his head back in a howl and rubs his eyes. “The F-word?”
“Yes? You know…”
“Fuck? You mean the word fuck, Serena?”
I gulp. I feel like the word takes on a whole new meaning when Landon says it. It’s not a dirty, bad word. It’s a dirty, delicious word that I want to scream as he does bad things to me. “Yes.”
“Do you not swear?”
“I was taught that ladies don’t swear.” Though I slip up from time to time, especially when I’m arguing with Skyler. He chuckles and nods, but I can see he wants to say something. “What, West?”
“Ladies that don’t swear, haven’t been thoroughly fucked.”