“Enjoy your lecture in Mr. Gage’s office?” asks Brady.
I turn my face away, roll my eyes, then twist off the sink and go for the paper towels. “Always learning,” I answer smugly. And quite a “lecture” it was, if he only knew. The thought makes me grin.
He joins me at the paper towels, drying his hands. “Nice tie.”
“Thanks.”
“Wasn’t it a loose Kelvin knot this morning?”
I freeze, my grin crumbling, and then I face him. “What?”
Brady studies me skeptically for a second, an air of feigned calmness and innocence in his eyes, then he shrugs. “Perhaps I got it wrong and your tie was always knotted in such a clean, crisp Full Windsor.” Then he tosses his crumpled up paper at the trash and eyes me again, coolly. “Good day, Trevor.”
The door swishes softly on his way out. I turn to myself in the mirror, a hand going up to my tie. Is it sad that I don’t know what either knot looks like?
Should I be worried? I tighten my jaw. Fuck no. Brady’s got nothing on you. Screw that self-satisfied sack of perfect hair.
With a jolt of confidence I likely don’t deserve, I push out of the bathroom and hunt for a free computer, figuring I can jump in on some of the daily work we’re always assigned. I find a computer right next to Elijah, who looks up at me with a sheepish, worried expression.
He gives my shoulder a rub. “You alright, buddy?”
I sit down and give the mouse a shake, waking the computer up. “I’m fine, Elijah. Thanks for asking.”
“I’m gonna get you so wasted this coming weekend for your birthday. I mean, twenty-one? It’s nothing to take lightly.”
I shrug, not having given my upcoming birthday even a speck of thought. “It’s just a birthday. I don’t like drinking, anyway. It’s really not a big deal.”
He studies me for a second, then lowers his voice. “It’s the boss, isn’t it?”
I turn to him, alarm in my eyes. “Who? What?”
Elijah puts a consoling hand on my shoulder and gives it a hearty squeeze. “The boss was mad at you for that botched report, huh? Got on your ass for your mistake?”
On my ass. In my ass. I experience an inner jolt of excitement, my asshole puckering as if reliving what just happened to me minutes ago in that office. “H-He did.”
“He gave you a really bad scolding, huh?”
I bite my lip and blush. “The worst.”
31
Benjamin prepares a surprise.
By Thursday, all the plans are in place. I step out of my office and lean against the door, surveying my employees as they go about finishing up their work.
My eye fishes Trevor right out of the crowd. He’s near the break room speaking with his roommate Elijah. I watch him for some time, feeling a sense of pride swelling within me.
I pull out my phone and tap a message to him, then hit send. I look back up and watch him some more.
Trevor’s hand goes to his pocket, but he doesn’t remove his phone; he simply continues talking to Elijah, smiling emptily, but I see that his eyes are glossed over, distracted by the text he surely knows is from me.
I don’t know why that amuses me so much, but it does. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him my plans.
Finally, he gives his friend a nod, then slips into the break room. All I see is his backside when he finally pulls out his phone and takes a look. He just stands there for the longest time, which makes me so impatient that I start shifting my weight from leg to leg like a dog waiting to be let out.
After waiting precisely five seconds too long, he only pockets his phone with a short sigh, then disappears into the break room.
I narrow my eyes.
That boy isn’t going to ignore me.
Deciding for some bullshit reason that I totally need to go and check the employee fridge for a yogurt I know isn’t there, I stroll through the office and right into the break room. He’s alone at the counter stirring a cup of coffee with a tiny straw.
He looks up from his cup, and his eyes flash.
“Trevor,” I mutter for a greeting that any boss would give any of his or her employees, then go for the fridge, turning my back on him. I poke through its contents in search for nothing at all.
“Mr. Gage,” he returns to my back.
I draw a long, even breath. “Thought you didn’t like coffee?”
“You can say I’ve acquired a taste.”
I slap shut the fridge, then come up right next to him at the counter—my elbow brushing along his—and reach into one of the cabinets for a mug I totally don’t need. “You’re defying me again.”
“Defying you?”
“That shirt is much too tight,” I warn him, “as are those pants, which are showcasing your cute ass far too perfectly.”