For the Win
Page 70Oh. Holy. Shit. That horrible fucker!
My breath caught. Actually…not so horrible fucker.
A pretty amazing fucker, if I remembered right. My eyes squeezed shut and now I considered myself a complete idiot for not having figured it out sooner. The way he’d touched me, both on his couch and the night at the bar. How incredible it had felt. And it hadn’t been the first time!
And he knew. He’d known it all along…
But what to do now? My first inclination was to go running home and bury myself under pillows and cry. Forget I’d ever worked at a place called Draco or ever met a dickhead named Jordan Fawkes.
I was very tempted by the thought of leaving him there in his underwear, twiddling his thumbs and wondering where I’d vanished to.
I grabbed the shirt, the suit and the first tie I could reach off the rack—an ugly dark pink one with bright, multi-colored polka dots. It still had the price tag on it and I assumed it was a gag gift. Well, it served him right. Let him go chat up his investment banker wearing a Skittles tie.
My mind raced as I went through the motions of locking up.
Should I confront him?
I wanted to. I really wanted to. But that streak of cowardice rose up again. I’d have to think about this…maybe find a time or way to get him back.
Or would I chicken out again?
No. I’d do it later today after his meeting. At the Starbucks, I dumped a cup of ice into his fucking coffee. And if he dared say anything about it… Or if he waved that recommendation in my face… I’d—I’d…well, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but I’d make sure it was good.
I arrived at the office with his clothes inside a garment bag draped over my shoulder and his coffee cup in my other hand. I pushed inside the door without bothering to knock.
Jordan was sitting at the desk in his stained undershirt. He stood when I came in.
I was so furious I couldn’t even look at him. Instead, I laid the garment bag across his desk and set down the coffee.
Before I could make my getaway, he unzipped the bag and said, “Took you long enough. At least you got things right this time. That’s my favorite suit.”
“Oh really? This is your favorite suit?” And I lost it. The rage was too much. I couldn’t take another moment. I felt like a volcano at the moment right before it erupted. Mt. Vesuvius had nothing on me.
I grabbed his shitty cup of coffee, popped off the lid and drenched the goddamn suit with it. Guess I wasn’t waiting until later after all.
He jumped back in shock. I tossed the coffee cup on the floor and stormed to the doorway.
“What do you think you are doing?” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“Going home. I quit.”
“Take a deep breath and calm down, Weiss. You aren’t going home.”
“If you’d get your giant manpaws off this door, I’d be gone already.”
“Manpaws?”
He leaned against the door, blocking me, and I backed away, avoiding looking into his face. He folded his arms across his chest. I had to force myself to ignore the way his stained undershirt tightened over his muscular build.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “So that’s it? You’re just going to flounce out of here and not speak up for yourself?”
I folded my arms, mirroring his action, and squared my shoulders, saying between clenched teeth, “Open the fucking door, Jordan.”
“No.”
“You’re not going to leave. Don’t just run away. Say something. Don’t leave me in the dark.”
My arms dropped, fists tightening at my sides. I’d never before had the desire to commit murder like I did at this moment.
“I’m the one who’s been in the dark.” I jerked my chin at him. “You’ve known exactly what’s going on.”
He blinked. Our eyes locked, and I could tell the moment he figured out what I was referring to because there was a spark of fear there that I’d never seen before.
In spite of that, he tilted his head at a cocky angle, giving a half shrug. “Well then, spit it out.”
“Fuck you, Jordan!” I ground out between my teeth. “Or should I say, Falco?”