Lag (The Boys of RDA Book 2) (21 page)

The line isn’t long and most people have huddled near the door to try and get closer to the warmth inside. I left my light jacket at the desk and don’t notice the slight chill until the fifth person with gloves on walks by me on the street. I guess Aspen isn't alone in her hatred of the cold. What will happen if it ever snows?

Ten minutes later I’m sitting at an unoccupied chair in the back of the café with my back to the window. Because you never know when you’ll need music, I pull a pair of headphones from my purse, plug them into my phone and open the player. The last song I'd listened to finishes and Daughtry’s song “Over You” blasts into my ears.

The semi gloomy song makes me smile as I sing along with the lyrics in my head and think of Trey for each and every one. When the song ends, I play it again and then one more time as I finish my second red velvet cupcake.

I allow the song to switch as I walk back to the large cobalt blue building I now call work. One of my newest song additions, “Here’s to the Zeros” from Marianas Trench plays to help lighten my mood. Aspen walked around the apartment singing the catchy lyrics for hours Sunday. Three repeats later and I decided I needed to download it too. It’s quirky.

Michael, the intern Finn asked to watch the front desk while I was gone, stands as soon as my toes cross over the threshold.

“Thank God you’re back. He’s crazy,” he sputters and then shoots out the door without any accompanying details.

I’m halfway across the lobby ready to throw my purse back in the lockable desk drawer when I’m stopped in my tracks with one simple word.

“Simone.”

I spin on my short heels to find the voice but don’t see anyone with my roaming glance.

“Over here, Simone.” The second time I peg it for Trey without hesitation. It came from my left. I slowly turn not ready for this confrontation and see him leaning against the lobby closet where people leave their coats. When Finn gave me the tour it was empty. Now it seems to have acquired half of Trey’s body. The other is half perched on this side of the door and it doesn’t look happy.

I pick up my advance to the desk and try to pretend I’m uninterested. “Trey, did you have a good lunch?” I use my shoe to open the bottom desk drawer and drop my purse in before using my foot to close it again.

Trey doesn’t answer and I look up to see him in the same spot, but his eyes narrow to become more menacing. “Come here.”

“In the closet?” A hand flies to my mouth and I stick my index finger between my teeth biting on the end of the nail. It’s a nervous habit I thought I'd broken myself of years ago. “No.”

His eyebrows raise up at my refusal. “Simone. Closet. Now.”

This time I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him in defiance. The silent struggle goes on between us for two years, or maybe twenty seconds, it’s hard to know when you’re in the moment and Trey Good is staring you down. When I realize he won't budge and one of us needs to be the adult here, I uncross my arms and huff but start the walk to the closet.

My steps are slow and Trey decides I’ve taken enough time. When his long arms can reach me, he pulls me into the small room and closes the door behind him. I’m pushed and my back lands against the wall before Trey takes both hands and cups my face.

“What are you do—” my question’s cut off when his lips land on mine in a passionate kiss. My breath catches between his lips and I grab on to both his shoulders keeping him where he is.

His knee comes between my legs and he leans in closer so our bodies touch. A chest thumps and I have trouble deciding if it’s mine or his. A moment later the small detail doesn’t matter as his tongue coaxes my mouth open with a soft push and he teases the inside until I join him in exploration. It’s a kiss or a claiming, but either way I’m helpless to stop him.

My head’s still spinning at this change of direction when his hands slip under my pink blouse and begin to travel upward. He lifts his mouth from mine and his first few breaths are ragged. My swollen lips and mind battle each other. One wants him to get back to the kissing and the other demands an explanation.

My brain wins the struggle. “What the fuck, Trey?”

His eyes meet mine and his lip lifts up in a half grin. “God, I love it when you swear.” His head lowers the few inches that separate us and he places two small, quick kisses to my tingling lips. As quickly as he was on me, he pushes away from our place by the wall. "Don’t distract me, Simone. We have topics to discuss. Where were you?”

“Where was I? Where were you?” My arms cross against my chest. The pleasure of the previous moment dwindles but isn’t lost as my heart rate slows. "Oh right you were with Mari in your office…with the door closed.” I don’t know where this sudden ability to be sassy comes from, but I plan to keep it.

Trey steps closer, his jaw set. “Mari was here three minutes tops. When I tell you I’m taking you to lunch, I’m taking you to lunch."

My brain honestly can’t grasp what he’s saying. I need more time to process. I don’t believe him and I’m not sure why since the man is honest even when it’s painful.

When I don’t answer, Trey leans closer again as he lightly strokes one finger from the bottom of my ear down to my collarbone and I shiver at the touch. He steps away from the door and places a few more kisses to my lips.

“Don’t listen to Mari…” Another two quick kisses. “Don't let her mess up this relationship.”

“Relationship?” My voice squeaks on the “–ip” part of the word.

He places a last kiss on the side of my temple this one lingering longer than the last few and opens the door. “Yes, our relationship.” And then he leaves me standing in the dark empty room alone.

Our relationship?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“I’ll set up the doughnuts when they get here in about twenty and then place the lunch order between ten and ten-thirty.” I sum up my morning plan to Finn as we walk into the RDA building together.

He opens the door for me and I slide past him to drop my purse off at the front desk. My black Gucci heels click on the tile floor as I walk to the small coat closet where Trey and I had our encounter Monday.

Trey wasn’t here yesterday, off to some meeting elsewhere in town, but I haven’t missed him leaning up against my desk watching my every move as we walked in this morning. I’m pretending he doesn’t affect me. He’s a little more dressed up today in a pair of tan khakis and a light blue long sleeve button down shirt. He hasn’t rolled up the sleeves yet, but it won’t take long. His face is still soft even with his ever trimmed stubble and he doesn’t appear to be upset about my attempt to ignore him. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. By the time I leave the small room, his smirk borders on a fully amused smile.

His musky, but sweet cologne lingers in the room and it tickles my nose. It makes me want to walk up to him and stick my head in his neck to get a better sniff, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Seriously, I don’t know when I grew such large balls, but I won't question it now. There’s something about the man that turns me on and yet equally pisses me off at the same time.

Finn disappears in the time it takes me to hang up my coat, and I survey the empty lobby trying to find anything else to distract me before I deal with the tall overbearing presence in the room. There’s nothing. And worst of all, from the small chuckle he makes as he watches my eyes wander the space, he knows it too.

“Trey.” I give the elephant a name without making actual eye contact.

To my annoyance he only laughs before he pushes off from the desk. “Finn gave you a ride this morning?”

His question sounds innocent, but there’s a hint of something stronger beneath it. I just don’t know him well enough to figure it out yet. “Well technically Jake drove, but yes I guess you’d say that.”

He stalks to my area behind the desk where I’ve taken a seat on my desk chair. “Why?”

“Why what? They picked me and Aspen up. We took her to work and then came here.” I try for light and casual, but I’m coiled like a spring waiting to see where Trey will take this line of questioning. I have this sinking feeling it’s going to push me right over to irritated. It’s too early in the morning to be annoyed with him already.

Trey stops his pursuit of me once he reaches my chair and sits on the lower desk surface. “So this is something you plan to do every day? Ride in with Finn,” he clarifies when I don’t answer right away.

His body has gotten closer as we’ve talked, or well as he’s talked and that cologne I wanted to smell earlier takes over my senses. I’m a little disoriented with him so close and it lessens my reserve of anger.

“Simone.”

I open my eyes to Trey’s face inches from mine and lean back fast enough my chair slides an inch or so away. To try and cover up being busted, I smooth out my black pin stripe skirt and pretend nothing is amiss. I definitely wasn’t caught trying to catch a smell of my new boss.

“Simone. The ride. Finn. Something you plan to do often?” Trey asks and I get the feeling it’s not the first time.

I force my eyes to meet his and try for the casual indifference I had such a hold on when I walked in. “What?” His head leans to the side and I sigh. “Yes, I guess. I mean if Finn’s okay with it.”

Finn’s okay with it since he and Aspen practically forced me in the car this morning, but I’m going for casual here. Trey doesn’t respond and the small amount of confidence I'd gained slips away, so I start to ramble.

“I mean I feel a little bad encroaching on his time with Aspen.”

“Then you shouldn’t bother the two of them.”

My lips purse and my forehead furrows. I’m hurt by his words and I’m sure it shows on my face and my quick flinch. Does he think I’m the type of person to mooch off friends? "I don’t know why you’re so upset over this—”

“I’m not upset,” he’s quick to cut me off. "I’m telling you I’ll give you a ride to work.”

My mouth drops open a fraction and my eyes narrow at him. “This was you telling me you’ll give me a ride?”

A small nod of his head is his only answer. It kind of pisses me off a bit. Here I’m worried Trey thought I was being too needy, but rather he’s jealous and this is his attempt to throw his weight around like a buffoon. Marissa might be on to something with her whole stance on men.

“How would I know that, Trey? At what point did you use a question to ask me if I even wanted a ride?”

My words come quickly and his body stiffens with each one as if it’s not until I question him that he realizes how wrong the situation is. I finish and he sticks his foot out to hook it on the underside of my seat and pulls my chair closer to him. If I wasn’t so exasperated, it would be an impressive move.

“When are you moving into the apartment?”

What? The new line of questioning catches me off guard. I’m not done being upset about the last stupid thing he did.

“What apartment?” I’m already living with Aspen. A fact he’s aware of even if he didn’t help me move.

Trey sighs at me. “The company apartment upstairs. It’s a perk of the job. They’re small so not everyone took us up on the offer. We have a few empty."

I open my mouth to tell him what Aspen told me about the six-month wait when the front door opens and the morning doughnut order is delivered.

Trey jumps down from the desk as the two large boxes are placed in front of me. “Don’t forget. Keep all the jelly ones on the left side.” He winks at me and then vanishes behind the office door.

 

**

 

Three bags stuffed with subs dangle from my hands. Today’s lunch. The inner office door opens from the other side and I step back and peek up from where the bags are cutting the circulation off from my fingers to see Trey stopped to hold the door open.

“Here, let me help.” He takes two bags from me and my fingers ache as the blood flow returns.

“Thanks.” Together we walk to the long table on the side wall of the open office space.

“I’d planned to ask if you wanted to do lunch today since we still haven’t made up for Monday, but it looks like you’re busy.”

An undignified noise escapes me and then I follow it up with actual words, “Finn left me in charge of food by myself today. I need to pass it all out.”

He smiles but is quick to cover it up when my frown deepens. “I’ll help. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the doughnut incident this morning."

Another pft-like noise answers his reminder of the jelly hell from this morning’s snack mix up. I should’ve known there was more to his wink than he let on. His “jelly on the left” comment was an understatement.

We pile the bags on the table and each take a few individually wrapped subs to begin our walk from desk to desk. Each foil wrapped log has a name handwritten in black marker on the top. I inwardly groan when I recognize the name on the first wrapped package of sweet hell I’ve grabbed.

“Melvin, I have your lunch.” I smile brightly as I approach the gluten free, vegan, no dairy employee. He doesn’t return the facial expression.

Not rising from his chair, he eyes the sub in my outstretched hand and presses a finger to the sleeve of his white shirt. “No mayo, extra tomato, and light lettuce? Toasted not oven cooked?” he asks.

I wave the sub a fraction closer to him hoping the smell will entice him to at least try it. “Yes, and cut into fourths not in half.” I finish the rest of his ridiculous special order I repeated four times over the phone today.

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