Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I was going to carry you inside.”
“That’s breaking the rules.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. His eyes stare intently into mine. “Do you want me to take you home?”
“Are you going to fire me?” What I really want to ask is if I get to sleep in his bed with him. Luckily my drunken tongue kept that question to myself.
“No, Sawyer,” he replies. I love the way my name sounds on his lips, especially when he’s all sweet, and his voice is low and husky.
“I can call a cab.” I move to sit up. My head pounds, but I ignore it. “Where’s my purse?”
“You didn’t have one. I didn’t see it in your car, and Jase said you didn’t come with one.”
“I did. It was sitting next to me on the floor in the living room.”
“Of course it was,” he sighs. “Are you sober enough to tell me where you live?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t really know the city all that well.”
“Give me your address, and we’ll make it happen.”
“You don’t have to. I can call a cab.”
“Sawyer, it’s late. No way am I letting you take a cab home by yourself with you in this current condition.”
“I’ll pay you for gas,” I say because I feel bad. I don’t know how I keep getting myself in these messes. I’m going to lose this job, and then where will that leave me? In a new city, jobless and homeless once my meager savings runs out.
“You’re not paying me for gas.” He grabs his phone from the cupholder. “Address.”
“Before we do that, I… um, I have to pee.” He just grins and shakes his head. I watch as he opens his door and climbs out of the car. I watch his every step as he reaches my door and pulls it open. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly and climb out.
“There is nothing for you to apologize for.” With his hand on the small of my back, he leads me to the front door, and inside his house. “This way,” he says softly.
This Royce, the sweet guy I met on the plane, I’ve missed him. “Thank you,” I say when we stop outside the bathroom door. He reaches in and turns the light on for me.
“I’ll wait right here.” I don’t wait for a reply from him before stepping into the room and closing the door. It’s weird that he’s out there listening, so I turn on the cold water and proceed to empty my bladder. Switching the water from cold to warm, I wash my hands and take a look at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are glassy, but I look like me—just Sawyer. I had once hoped that the sexy man on the plane could be more to me, but fate had other plans.
“Sawyer, you okay?” Royce calls through the door.
Time to face the music, or my boss. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, but this is not who I am. I don’t go getting drunk at dinner parties and end up in my boss’s bathroom in his house. “Yes,” I say, pulling open the door. “Thank you.”
“You ready to go?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Thank you, Royce.”
He nods, places his hand on the small of my back, and guides me back out to his car. I want to tell him that we can stay here. That I’ll curl up next to him in his bed and let his tatted arms wrap around me. That’s what I want to say, but I know that I can’t. He’s already warned me that my behavior looks bad on the company. Besides, I’m the girl who kneed her ex-boss in the balls for coming onto me. I don’t need a sexual harassment case against me. No, what I need is to get my shit together and not lose this job.
“Thank you,” I say politely when he opens my door for me. He doesn’t reply, just waits for me to climb back into his car and buckle in before shutting the door. The drive to my place is quiet. None of the banter like the day we met. Then again, things have changed between us. We’re no longer two strangers sitting next to each other on a flight. He’s my sexy new boss who I can’t stop thinking about.
At least I’m consistent.
Even though I feel sluggish, I’m wide awake, so when Royce reaches for the dash and the low croon of Johnny Cash flows through the speakers, I smile, remembering our conversation about music on the plane.
“Good choice,” I tell him, pointing to the radio. At least I think I am; there are two of them, so I’m not sure.
“I thought you might approve.” He glances over at me, his lips tilting in a grin, and I wish I could kiss them. I wish I could feel the press of them against my own.