Griffin, my bestie’s man’s best friend and head of security, barreled through the door and chose not to acknowledge my question. “Where is he?” he demanded, his Scottish accent in full force.
Annoyed, I narrowed my eyes at him. “He?”
The bastard ignored me and glanced around as if he was looking for someone. The fact that I knew I was alone left me confused as to why he was suggesting I wasn’t. I stood my ground as he darted into the bedroom and, after a few seconds, exited only to charge into the spare bedroom as if to defend my honor.
When he finally came back, I crossed my arms and glared at him.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I thought—”
“Thought what?” I snapped.
“Never mind. I got an alert that someone was here.”
“Alert?” I asked, my question filled with deadly menace.
He may own a security company that handled such things for rich people around the world, but I hadn’t hired him. Though I’d agreed to stay in this apartment at Kalen’s request, I was here under protest. The only reason I’d given in was because my apartment had been vandalized by people yet unknown. But I drew the line at my privacy. An alert for a break in was one thing. An alert if I had a visitor was another.
“The kind that comes with the security we have installed to protect you,” Griffin responded as he returned to his normal playful self, which included a crude once-over of my body.
“There better not be cameras in here or I’m killing someone, starting with you.”
He stepped forward, a smirk growing on his face. “If you let me have you, I’d die a lucky man.”
I slapped his hands, which he’d extended as if to wrap me in his arms. “I didn’t fall for your games at lunch the other day. Don’t think anything has changed.”
When I’d gone to give Kalen shit about being in New York and leaving Bailey overseas, he sent Griffin in to appease me and calm me down. Admittedly, Griffin was damn good to look at and fun to hang around, but he was also in the no-fly zone for me.
Pretending to be wounded, a hand on his chest, he said, “You can’t deny the chemistry between us.”
“Yes, it was like we were separated at birth, which would make having sex with you gross.”
Griffin’s lips twitched. “You have it wrong, darling.” He injected a little Texas twang in that last word now that his accent wasn’t on Highlander mode. Though a hint of it was still there. “It was cruel fate that separated us, not a blood tie. We were meant to be together.”
“As friends,” I finished for him. “We are too much alike to ever be together. We’d kill each other. Kalen and Bailey do enough of that. We don’t need to add to the drama pool.”
The two of them were madly in love, in my opinion, but neither would admit it. They were dancing around each other, pretending neither cared.
“How can you say that?” Griffin asked, playing the victim again.
“You’d flirt. I’d flirt back. You’d get angry. I’d get pissed. You’d yell. I’d scream and hopefully the cops would be called before I decapitated you,” I said, all nonchalant like.
“That’s dark. But sounds like the beginning of the best sex of my life,” he teased.
“No, because it would start with you flirting with anything that moved. Not with me,” I said, tilting my head in game, set, match posture.
“Ah, you know me well.”
“Exactly. Now it’s time for you to leave. You can see I’m safe and, more importantly, sleepy.”
“Sure I can’t join you?” he asked, making another attempt at closing the distance between us. “What if being with you was my dying wish?”
I shoved him toward the door. “Then you’d be a dead and lonely man.” For good measure, I added a firm, “Go.”
With his hand on the doorknob, but not yet opening it, he said, “I can be your battery-operated boyfriend. All you have to do is turn me on.” He wagged his eyebrows.
That did it. I couldn’t hold back any longer and laughed. “Not even in your dreams.”
Finally, he opened the door as if he’d waited for me to cave and acknowledge his silliness. “Seriously, just give me a chance.”
He sounded so sincere, I almost believed him.
“How about I take you to my favorite spot and I can play wingman, Robin to your Batman, and get you laid?” When his brows shot up, I added, “And not by me. We’re better friends.” Then with the seriousness he’d given me, I said, “I don’t want to lose that.”
He tipped his head in my direction. “I can’t tonight.”
Since it was after midnight, he was talking much later today.
“Tomorrow night then.”
“Tomorrow,” he acquiesced.
When the door closed, I slid the bolt and sighed.
Griffin would make some girl very happy. It just wasn’t me. A part of me mourned that. But the mature part of me accepted it would never work. I’d dated enough guys to know he wasn’t my person, which sucked. Though I’d had less experience with sex than some might think, my numbers were enough for me to know the man would be great in bed. That was something I sorely missed.