Page 14 of Hard to Judge

“Probably the same reason you’re working.” He sits behind his massive desk and shuffles a few papers around.

“I’m working because I don’t have anything better to do. You have Hailey. So I know that’s not the case.” I tug on my lower lip to keep from being vulgar. “It’s only three days until your first Christmas together. You should be making memories.”

“She’s seeing Nat back to France.”

“Ah.” I offer a nod as though I understand. “Then I’m not the only one you’re avoiding.”

“I’m not avoiding you or her.” Arlo shakes a stack of papers into a tidy pile.

“After eighteen years of knowing someone, you know when they’re avoiding you.” My hands drop onto my lap. “You canceled boxing, rescheduled a meeting with the international team, and haven’t answered my texts for two days.”

Arlo opens a drawer on his desk and slides the papers inside but says nothing.

I squeeze the hand he can’t see into a fist. “If you want me to leave so you and Hailey can be happy together, just say so. Don’t avoid me.”

He slams the drawer. Its thud reverberates around the room. “Leave?”

“Japan. London.” I shrug like I’m not carving my heart out of my chest. “I can work remotely from either location.”

I prefer my home in Kyoto. Its views are breathtaking. Mountains. Temples. Lakes. Blossoms.

It would make the prettiest hell.

“You’re not leaving,” Arlo decrees with a strength that pushes me back in the chair.

Still, it has to be said. “If that’s what you need from me, then I am.”

“I don’t need you to leave, Hota. I need you to fuck Hailey,” he snaps.

My dick goes hard, not that it’s a stretch. I’m in a constant state of semi-erect around Arlo. Which isn’t great for my balls or my chafed palms. Images of Hailey laid out between us, both feasting on and fucking her holes, make my toes tingle and my head feel a little floaty.

I fill my lungs with a breath, and then another, waiting for him to crack a joke. Not that he’s that kind of guy. He doesn’t make another sound. His eyes are honed and too calm for my liking.

“Excuse me?” He didn’t stutter, and I didn’t have difficulty hearing him. Apparently, my comprehension has gone to shit.

“I need you?—”

“I heard you.” I hold up two fingers close together. “Hear me when I say I’m not about to screw the only woman you’ve touched in decades.”

“The only person,” he corrects, like I don’t fucking know it.

“Fine. Doesn’t change what I said.” I rub my suddenly sweating palms on my pant legs, drop my casual leg because this is no longer parading as a casual conversation, and straighten in the seat.

“She wants you to,” Arlo says as though that’s an adequate explanation for the situation.

“What?” My head shakes. Sure, we’ve played with people for years. But this, this is not that. “Hailey isn’t like that.”

I stand and lean over his desk. My fingers press against the wooden top. “She’s head over heels in love with you. She doesn’t want or need anyone but you.” I point an angry finger at his chest. “She’s not a plaything. She’s the real thing.”

“You think I don’t know all that?” he says calmly. Too calmly.

My head tilts. “Then why would you toy with that relationship? You already proved your point to her.”

He presses his lips together. The sinew of his jaws flex. I recognize the stubborn silence, though I haven’t experienced it since boarding school. It’s a kick in the gut. The air flees my lungs. Hell, it’s like he grabbed his letter opener and slit my wrists.

The blood drains from my extremities. It makes tiny stars dance in my eyes, and the room goes dim around the edges. Around everything but him.

I push off the desk, grip my hips, and walk to the wall. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a plain old wall. I know better, and I’ve never been more grateful. I push in on the magic latch and pop open the minibar, which is bigger than most full bars.

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