It’s not the club. Leigh and I are just…well neither of us have ever roomed with another man before. It’s just a learning curve for both of us, ok? And right now, I’m more comfortable in my office than I am at home. That’s all. This will pass and I’ll be fine.”
I chuckle at him and shake my head.
“Go home, John. There’s someone there that loves you and probably hates you working so late into the night. Everything I need to tell you is in the email. I just wanted to leave you a message to check it first thing in the morning. There’s been a fuck ton of spending from the Springfield club and I want to make sure we’re still on track financially to open in a month.”
“Got it,” his voice is tired as he yawns and ends the call.
I spend the next two hours mulling over all the paperwork that Kayla has half-hazardly put together since I left. It’s been a month and already my filing and organization system has gone out the window. I’m almost through the pile of shit that’s been left on my desk when my phone buzzes.
HARPER: Highfives yer gone’
HARPER: Fucking autoroccest.
HARPER: BAH!
HARPER: BEeer.
I stare at my phone as the single word texts come through and all I can do is worry that she’s safe.
And that alone pisses me off.
Deciding to lock the phone screen and flip it over so I can’t see any more of her drunken texts come through, I get back to work trying to forget she’s out, partying, drunk, and I’m not there to help her.
Stop, Knox. You’re not a knight. She’s completely fine without you.
Fifteen minutes later and I don’t think my phone has stopped buzzing. Whatever she’s doing tonight, apparently she can’t get me off her mind. A grin sweeps across my face at the memory of her underneath me. Good lord she’s sexy.
I huff, picking up the phone and glaring at the screen, swipe it to view the forty messages from Harper. What can be this important that she can’t leave me alone? Did John not give her the message that I’m out of town tonight?
HARPER: Hey
HARPER : You
HARPER: DRANK
Jesus she’s beyond remembering this in the morning. I’m a firm believer of no phones when alcohol is being inhaled at the rate it took her to get this plastered.
The texts go on.
HARPER: I want to dnce with you
HARPER: Why you no reply???!???,,
The time stamps on the messages are within minutes of each other. Reading through them, it’s not until the final text that I know I need to go home.
Home.
Mother fucker. It’s not my home. It’s not my place to call it home with what I have to do.
HARPER: House was unlocked and open. Wht do Do? IN! Go IN!
HARPER: If I die you can have my blankets. You look good in my blankets. You look good in everything. Sxy.
The spelling tells me she’s either frantically texting or drunk off her ass still, either way she’s too far gone to handle whatever’s happening there on her own and I don’t know who she’s out with.
Why in god’s name did she wait to go out and get completely wasted when I’m out of town? I can’t keep her safe if I’m this far away!
“Kayla, I’m leaving,” I bark into the intercom that leads to her office. I know she’s still here…probably waiting for me to leave so she can pounce on me. Bitch. With my car keys in hand, I’m out the door before she can reply.
If Harper’s in trouble, I’m never going to forgive myself for leaving her alone.
And that feeling right there scares me to the core.
I have two hours or less to get my feelings in check.
With the sun glaring in through the window, the first thing I notice is the smell.
Good god what is that?
“Morning,” His voice radiates through my body, sending heat waves to parts that shouldn’t be awake this early. How can one word from a man I’ve barely known do that to me?
What is that smell?
“Hey,” my voice groggy and smoke ridden. Last night was probably a mistake, but I’m alive and I think it
I chuckle at him and shake my head.
“Go home, John. There’s someone there that loves you and probably hates you working so late into the night. Everything I need to tell you is in the email. I just wanted to leave you a message to check it first thing in the morning. There’s been a fuck ton of spending from the Springfield club and I want to make sure we’re still on track financially to open in a month.”
“Got it,” his voice is tired as he yawns and ends the call.
I spend the next two hours mulling over all the paperwork that Kayla has half-hazardly put together since I left. It’s been a month and already my filing and organization system has gone out the window. I’m almost through the pile of shit that’s been left on my desk when my phone buzzes.
HARPER: Highfives yer gone’
HARPER: Fucking autoroccest.
HARPER: BAH!
HARPER: BEeer.
I stare at my phone as the single word texts come through and all I can do is worry that she’s safe.
And that alone pisses me off.
Deciding to lock the phone screen and flip it over so I can’t see any more of her drunken texts come through, I get back to work trying to forget she’s out, partying, drunk, and I’m not there to help her.
Stop, Knox. You’re not a knight. She’s completely fine without you.
Fifteen minutes later and I don’t think my phone has stopped buzzing. Whatever she’s doing tonight, apparently she can’t get me off her mind. A grin sweeps across my face at the memory of her underneath me. Good lord she’s sexy.
I huff, picking up the phone and glaring at the screen, swipe it to view the forty messages from Harper. What can be this important that she can’t leave me alone? Did John not give her the message that I’m out of town tonight?
HARPER: Hey
HARPER : You
HARPER: DRANK
Jesus she’s beyond remembering this in the morning. I’m a firm believer of no phones when alcohol is being inhaled at the rate it took her to get this plastered.
The texts go on.
HARPER: I want to dnce with you
HARPER: Why you no reply???!???,,
The time stamps on the messages are within minutes of each other. Reading through them, it’s not until the final text that I know I need to go home.
Home.
Mother fucker. It’s not my home. It’s not my place to call it home with what I have to do.
HARPER: House was unlocked and open. Wht do Do? IN! Go IN!
HARPER: If I die you can have my blankets. You look good in my blankets. You look good in everything. Sxy.
The spelling tells me she’s either frantically texting or drunk off her ass still, either way she’s too far gone to handle whatever’s happening there on her own and I don’t know who she’s out with.
Why in god’s name did she wait to go out and get completely wasted when I’m out of town? I can’t keep her safe if I’m this far away!
“Kayla, I’m leaving,” I bark into the intercom that leads to her office. I know she’s still here…probably waiting for me to leave so she can pounce on me. Bitch. With my car keys in hand, I’m out the door before she can reply.
If Harper’s in trouble, I’m never going to forgive myself for leaving her alone.
And that feeling right there scares me to the core.
I have two hours or less to get my feelings in check.
With the sun glaring in through the window, the first thing I notice is the smell.
Good god what is that?
“Morning,” His voice radiates through my body, sending heat waves to parts that shouldn’t be awake this early. How can one word from a man I’ve barely known do that to me?
What is that smell?
“Hey,” my voice groggy and smoke ridden. Last night was probably a mistake, but I’m alive and I think it
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