Page 39 of The Boss

My jaw clenched. A sharp, hot anger burned under my ribs, a fire that made no goddamn sense. “For fuck’s sake, Chris. Do you have a death wish?”

“Oh, please,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “I know how to handle myself.”

“You could’ve been seriously hurt. Or worse.” My voice came out harder than I intended.

Chris’s fingers traced the patterns in the marble of the counter, his gaze fixed on his meal. Then, after a beat, he said, “I only did it because… I needed a distraction.”

I frowned. “A distraction? From what?”

His lips pressed together, like he was weighing something in his head. Then he huffed a dry, humorless laugh and muttered, “From you, dumbass.”

The floor felt like it tilted beneath me.

Chris gave me a look that was all exhaustion and exasperation, rubbing his nose. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I… wanted something more. More than just sucking your dick, however amazing that is. And since you’re clearly not interested in giving me that, I figured I’d go find someone who was.”

Something cracked open in my chest, a feeling both strange and frightening. He kept his voice casual, but I saw it, the raw emotion behind his eyes. “We had a deal,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Blowjobs only. I thought I made it clear.”

Chris sighed. “Yeah. I know. And I don’t expect anything from you, really. I knew what this was from the start.”

Neither of us said anything for a long moment. The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator, the soft clink of Chris’s spoon against the rim of his bowl. I should’ve said something. Should’ve told him we needed to stop this before one of us got hurt. Beforehegot hurt. But the words never came. I just shook my head. “Eat your damn breakfast.”

Chris finished eating first and pushed his empty bowl aside. He slouched in his chair, stretching his arms over his head with a soft groan before letting them fall to his sides. His fingers drummed against the counter, restless.

I wasn’t much better. My body felt tight, wound up with tension I couldn’t place. I finished the last of my oatmeal, then got up, reaching for his bowl before he could, my fingers brushing his in the process. Chris shot me a look but let me take it. I rinsed the dishes, jaw tight. Behind me, I felt him watching.

“You’re quiet,” he said.

I turned off the tap and grabbed a towel, drying my hands. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

I didn’t answer. The truth was, my mind was still caught in what he’d said earlier.I couldn’t stop thinking about you.I tossed the towel onto the counter and turned toward him, bracing my hands on the island, caging him in. He stiffened slightly as I leaned in, close enough to catch the warmth of his skin.

“You’re not gonna give me another lecture, are you?” he murmured.

“No.”

Chris didn’t seem convinced, his gaze darting down to my mouth before snapping back up.

I didn’t move. I liked having him this close, where I could see every flicker of emotion in his face. Where I could touch him without thinking. Which made what I was about to say even harder. “But this thing between us?” I said, voice lower. “We might have to put an end to it.”

Chris’s expression didn’t change, but something flared in his eyes. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He let out a short breath, almost a laugh. “Because I want more?”

I clenched my jaw.

Chris tilted his head, gaze sharp now. “You’re acting like I’m in love with you or something.”

Eyes boring into his, I reached for his hand. “Are you?” My voice came out lower, rougher than I meant it to. My fingers flexed around his wrist, feeling his pulse jump beneath my grip.

Chris smirked. “Oh, totally. Been planning our wedding and everything.”

“Chris.”

His grin faded. His eyes dropped to where I still had a hold on him. He didn’t say anything for a while. Then, quietly, “I just like being with you.” His fingers twitched beneath mine. “Even when we’re not…” He swallowed.

---