“Seriously, did you see the way she looked at me when she told me not to stuff it up?” I huff, stalking back over to Peyton. “Like, God forbid I put two sugars in his damn coffee instead of one. Hey, maybe I should slip some laxatives in there?” I say with an evil grin. “I mean, he walks around like he’s got something lodged up his ass, maybe all he needs is a good, old-fashioned cleanout.”

“Lanna—”

“No. I don’t care how ridiculously sexy he is or how dreamy those blue eyes are to stare into,” I say, cutting her off.

I was on a roll, and Peyton wasn’t going to stop me. I have two years’ worth of frustration to vent, and it’s all coming out now, one way or another.

“He’s an asshole to everyone here but Jade, and I bet that’s only because she’s sucking his cock. Not that I wouldn’t go there if he asked me to—”

“Lanna,” Peyton hisses, her eyes wide.

“Oh, come on, like you wouldn’t suck his cock too,” I retort, nodding knowingly at her. “Hey, maybe we could tag team him.”

We’d had a lengthy discussion about this a few weeks ago over a bottle of tequila, so I knew exactly what she wanted to do with that ten inches of pure stiff muscle. And I thought I was the dirty one. I
chuckle to myself and turn around. My heart skips a beat when I spot Chase leaning against Jade’s desk. He smirks at me and casually lifts one eyebrow.

Oh, god no.

My heart pounds as I wait for him to react. This can’t be happening. I cannot believe I just said that. Well, I can believe it, because I say shit like that every day, but not when he’s standing right behind me. I glare at Peyton, who releases a snort and then flushes, bowing her head. Chase’s eyes don’t leave me as I glance around the room, praying for an escape, but there isn’t one.

It’s like a scene from a really bad movie. With any luck, he’ll drag me outside and throw me on the back of his bike and take me somewhere to have his way with me. Or his office will do just fine.

“Is Jade here?” he asks, directing his question at me, his smooth, deep voice making me shiver.

I shake my head, incapable of speaking. I think it’s worse that he’s ignoring the obvious issue of my outburst. I’d almost prefer for him to say something about it. Anything. Almost… He nods, and then walks over to the door, stopping just as he reaches it. I brace myself as he turns his attention back to me.

“Alana?” he asks.

I force myself to meet his steel blue eyes, wishing he didn’t find this so damn amusing.

“Yes?” I whisper, feeling sick. God, I am so embarrassed.

“While I appreciate your attentiveness to my health, I can assure you that everything is functioning just as it should. Maybe you should focus more on your job and less on things that don’t concern you?” he asks lightly. “Like who is and isn’t sucking my cock.”

He walks out, briskly closing the door behind him.

I stumble over to my desk and slump down onto my chair, my eyes wide. I breathe out, feeling dazed. My heart’s racing and I’m feeling a mixture of extreme nausea and embarrassment over the whole situation. Every time I think about what I just said, more or less to his face, I
want to throw up.

Peyton rushes over to me, both panicked and trying not to laugh, which under any other circumstance would be a funny combination. I glare at her, which sets her off.

“I’m so sorry,” she giggles, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not laughing at you, but that just made my fucking day.”

“I’m glad I can be a source of amusement for you,” I grumble, my tone sour.

“At least he knows your name now.” she offers, her eyes twinkling.

I scowl at her. I think I preferred it when he didn’t.