13
KAYLA
Ienjoyworkingat KDP.
Over the last week, I’ve created folders and archives for everything I need, and I’m really growing into the job. It might not be the dream job I wanted, like one of the editing positions, but I created a routine that makes me feel good and useful. After our lunch date—because he can call it whatever he wants, but it was a damn lunch date—we both upped our game.
Or maybe I did.
I grab every chance to flirt with him, stroking his arm or shooting him a wink. He went into full friend mode whenever he’s not busy being my boss. He’s adamant to stay friends, replying to every single one of my actions with an affable gesture. He’s consistent, I’ll give him that. But he doesn’t realize it’s making it even more of a challenge I want to rise to.
“I’m going now, honey. Do you need a ride?” Agnes asks, standing in front of her desk.
My eyes move to the clock that says it’s 5:30 PM.
“No, thanks. I’m pretty sure he’ll be done soon.”
“Don’t wait too long, honey. Before you know it, they expect you to wait forever.”
“Good night, Agnes,” I sing-song with my eyes still locked on my screen, and a smile lifts the corner of my mouth.
I’d expected Agnes to at least make a few comments since she’s a regular spectator of our displays of verbal affection, but so far, she’s just giving me glances of amusement while keeping her mouth shut.
I put my focus back to my inbox, sorting and replying to the emails that have been sliding in this afternoon. Time creeps by until I notice a shadow moving beside me.
I look up when I see Bodi standing next to my desk, and when I bring my attention to the clock, it now says 6:30.
His sunglasses sit in his hair, his keys in his hand, and he’s looking sexy as ever. He’s wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up, creating a longing in my now aching fingers.
“Are you ready to go?” I love the familiarity in his voice, like it’s the most normal thing that we’re going home together.
“Do you ever wear a jacket?”
“Why do I need a jacket when I have a car?”
“Well, I don’t know? Because it’s only thirty degrees outside?”
“Aah, are you cold?” he coos before he glances around the now empty office. “Do you want me to keep you warm?”
One brow lifts, daring him with my tongue pressed against my teeth. “If I say yes, will you take me back to your office?”
I see his internal struggle, but he makes a quick recovery.
“No, I was more thinking about putting on the heater in the car. I also have heated seats to keep your ass warm.”
“I know something else that will keep my ass warm.”
His lips are pressed together, but I can see the smile that’s dying to creep through.
“One of these days, Bodi. One of these days, I’m going to make you crack.” I get up, then grab my purse before I push him forward toward the elevator.
“Not gonna happen, babe. You wanna get some burgers on the way home?”
A smug guffaw falls from my lips as I press the button to go down. “You’ve called me ‘babe’ every single chance you get when no one is around, and buy me all the food you think is crap–”
“It is crap,” he interrupts.
“Yet, you still ask what I wanna eat every day. You’re going to crack, baby.” I give him a matter of fact look as I watch his expression change by me calling him baby. It rolled off my tongue with familiarity, even though it’s the first time I’ve called him that. Hunger travels in his green eyes, and I hold his attention until the elevator dings and the doors slide open. He rubs his face with a small grunt.
“Get in, Kayla.”
With a content sigh, I do as told and stand beside him.
“If you look at me like that every time I call you baby, I should do it more often,” I mumble with a giggle.
“Shut up.”
The rest of the ride down is silent, though my lips are firmly pressed together to prevent me from letting out the laugh that’s dying to burst out.
If he was anyone else, I’d probably move on by now, but it’s the craving look in his emerald green eyes that keeps me going every time. I know he wants me just as much as I want him. I just gotta make him cross the line once. Just once to remind him how good we can be together and that he needs to let go of that bullshit about me being too young. I’m not asking him to marry me. I’m not even asking for a relationship. I just got out of one, and it didn’t end well. But I do want him in every carnal way, and I’m not going to give up because I’m born in the wrong year.
“Can I drive?” I question when we walk into the garage and toward his red Charger.
Within a split second, he throws me a look like I just asked him to eat bugs or something else ridiculous.
“No.” His tone holds no room for discussion, and I scrunch up my nose, a little offended.
“Why not?” I screech.
I stand in front of the hood while he lays his arms on top of the car, his hip leaning against it with a self-righteous grin stretching his cheeks. “Babe, do you know what this car cost?”
I pop my hip, crossing my arms in front of my body with a defiant glare. “It’s a Dodge Charger. From what I can see, it’s a 2015/2016 model. You got double the pipes, which tells me it’s at least a V6, but when I listen to the engine, I’d expect it to be a V8, so I think about thirty grand?” I wait for his response, enjoying the amazed look washing his face.
“Am I close?” I ask, fluttering my lashes when he stays quiet.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“It’s the only thing my Pops and I can agree on.” My feet carry me to the passenger side and I get in, waiting for him to do the same.
When he finally does, he starts the roaring engine and I glance at him with my head resting against the headrest.
I’m disappointed. As much as I tease him every single day, I feel like we’re also developing a friendship, and I thought that we’ve established some trust between us.
“It’s not you. I don’t trust anyone with this car,” he explains, as if he can hear my thoughts. A smile forms in the corner of my mouth, pleased with the fact that it’s not about me.
“How come?” My voice is calm and free from judgment, a sincere curiosity etching through.
“It’s my first car.”
A brow arches, letting his words settle in my mind as I wonder if he means that literally.
I point at my seat. “This is your first car? Ever?”
He nods, opening his mouth to tell me the backstory, I think, when his phone starts to ring over the Bluetooth. When I look at the screen on the dashboard, it says Peartree Park.
“Shit,” he mutters before answering the call. “Hello?”
“Mr. McKay? It’s Sheila.” A woman’s voice echoes through the car, making my brows knit together, wondering who Sheila is.
“Good evening, Sheila.”
“I’m sorry, but your father has been really aggressive in the last few hours. We had to sedate him, but we can’t get him out of this state. He’s demanding to see you. We would like you to come over to make sure he doesn’t keep up all the residents for the rest of the night.”