Page 38 of The Revenge Agenda

My mouth drops as I try to figure out what to say to that. “He said I smelled good, but that was as creepy as it got.”

“Oh good, he’s learning manners. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“The living room is where we have our important meetings.”

“And this is an important meeting?”

“Of course.” He gives me one of his bright smiles.

And this is exactly why I find it so hard to ignore him and act like he’s any other employee. I really had no hope when it came to him. Not when he’s so … pure. Happy. Pretty fucking naive. It’s becoming clear to me how Ian had such an easy time of stringing him along and why Rush didn’t notice he was being played.

With me in another city and Rush distracted and unfocused, we were perfect prey. I wonder what he looked for in those other men.

I shake it off before my mood can take a nosedive. Plotting revenge requires anger, not sadness. But before we can step into the room, Rush pauses, turning slightly and setting his fingertips on my chest. The touch is so unexpected it takes me a moment to realize he’s said something.

“What?”

“Just checking you’re still okay with this? It’s sort of weird, having you here. And I don’t want you to judge my friends once it’s over because things might get strange, but please give them a chance. They all have big hearts.” Rush’s voice is sort of scratchy but so sincere, his hazel eyes dancing in the dim light of the hall.

“Wait. You think I’m going to judge them?”

“Obviously. We’re not like you.”

Like me. Fucking hell. I want to headbutt the wall to prove to him I’m not as in control as he thinks. “All morning, I’ve been freaking out thinking they’re going to judge me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I want them to like me, obviously.”

“But why? You might never have to see them after today.”

That’s the question, isn’t it? Why do I care what this bunch of random men think? I’m comfortable in social settings most of the time, but since moving here, my confidence has taken a real hit. Being the guy with a stable job and a stable relationship helped create this perfect family guy persona, and without that, I think I’m having an identity crisis.

I’m standing in a house with my employee who fucked my ex, for fuck’s sake.

My hands slide through my perfectly styled hair, and I ignore the urge to fix it again.

“Can we get this over with?”

Rush laughs and tugs a chunk of hair that’s fallen over my forehead. “Careful, you’ll start to look like me.”

He turns and leads the way, giving me a second to run my eyes over him. From his chaotic blond curls on the top of his head to his tanned, lean form and … Jesus. Rush has an ass. An ass that’s on full display in those sweatpants.

Yeah. I’m never going to look like him.

“Everyone,” he says, and we step into the living room. “This is The Hunter. Hunter, this is everyone.”

He’s not joking about everyone. There are another six men watching us.

There’s a round of hellos as I lift my eyebrows Rush’s way. “The Hunter? What, I have mythical status or something?”

“I know you’re joking, but you really do. I think you’re underestimating how much I talk about you.”

Considering until the last few days, Rush wouldn’t have had anything positive to talk about, that doesn’t fill me with confidence. “Okay, but to clear things up, I’ve apologized to him for being a dick.”

“You were mean to Rush?” Redhead snarls.

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