Page 116 of Hard to Judge

“Them digging in? Naming names? Blowing a lid off this thing?”

Finally, his gaze lifts from the paper and pins me. “This thing?”

I huff. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know why you’d refer to our relationship as a thing.” He lifts a brow.

It’s my turn to drag a hand down my face. Arlo and Hailey are established. They’re together. I’ve loved Arlo as long as I can remember, and I know he loves me. I love Hailey. Hailey loves me. Though we’re not established, they spend every night at my house, but it’s only my home when they’re present. We never go to their home.

“I don’t know what we’re doing. What this is. What the rules are. I just?—”

A knock sounds at the door and cuts me off.

“Your meeting. I’ll go.” I turn to leave. To retreat and regroup.

“Stay.” He grabs my arm, burning me through my suit.

“I’m not up to speed. I won’t be much help to you.” I shrug him off.

“That’s not why I want you to stay.” He puts the paper on his desk and points at the seating area where we got each other off a few weeks ago. “Please?”

Like a good boy, I nod and stalk toward the place he first rubbed our dicks together. I choose one of the two single chairs across from the sofa. I can’t bear to sit next to anyone right now. Especially Arlo. I’m not sure I’d be able to keep my hands or emotions to myself.

My back is to the door when several people enter. I recognize Ziya, Arlo’s corporate lawyer, by the jingle of her bracelets. She rushes in, a vibrant splash of teal, pink, and gold in the muted tones of the office. Smoothing the traditional Indian dress under her bottom, she takes the seat to my immediate right, leaving the head chair open for Arlo.

“Hota.” She nods and quickly pulls several files and an iPad from her bag. Her pretty mocha face squints at the screen and types furiously.

“Z. How are you?”

“Behind schedule because these backwoods clients didn’t account for New York City traffic. I had to reschedule my next meeting.” She huffs. “If they mess up my whole day…” Her head shakes.

If I were in a better mood, I’d laugh. I adore Z. She looks like a demure Indian lady. I’ve seen businessmen underestimate her time and again. Oh, the aftermath. It’s glorious.

“Backwoods? Where from?” I ask more out of a need to keep the conversation going than curiosity.

“Oklahoma.” She whispers the word like it’s a witch’s curse.

It might be. My body seizes like it’s under a spell.

Arlo nervous for a meeting. A buyout. A favor.

“I’ve never been, but it sounds barbaric.” Z shivers and opens a file.

“What kind of company?” I manage.

“Real estate.” She flips open the top file. “Why anyone would buy in a place called Stillwater is beyond me. Sounds creepy.”

“Still waters run deep.” A familiar voice that never fit into the backdrop of OSU with its deep bravado and rich British accent rumbles from just behind us.

“Exactly.” Ziya shudders. “You never know what’s in there. How did a Brit like you get stuck in a place like that?”

“It’s not all bad. Right, Hota?”

I turn to find a bull of a man behind me. He’s taller and wider than he was when I knew him. He’s better looking too, and that’s saying something.

“You’ve been to Stillwater, Oklahoma?” I hear Z ask the question, but I can’t answer.

It takes all my wits just to stand.

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