Page 58 of #Bossholes

“It was my pleasure.” She leans in close, pulls me in for a hug, and whispers, “Don’t think you won’t be calling me the second they leave.” She gives me a squeeze and pulls back, glancing between my bosses. “It was lovely to meet the two of you. Oh, and speaking of football players, Theo wanted to make sure you were coming out with us next weekend for drinks. I think he misses you.”

“I’ll be there. Bye now.” I wave her off, practically shutting the door in her face. When I turn around, both my bosses have their arms crossed, staring at me.

Wyatt’s jaw works back and forth, his eyes hardening as he takes me in. “Who’s Theo?”

Damn June and her big mouth. But wait. Is he…is he jealous? Over me?

No, that can’t be right.

“Theo Bronson, maybe you’ve heard of him. He’s a football player for the Aces.” I shrug, keeping my tone casual. “I’m notsure what position he plays, but he looks great in those tight pants.”

There’s a deep rumble across Maverick’s chest, and Wyatt’s hands fist at his sides. All the playfulness is gone from their faces, and now they look positively murderous. Because another man wants me to hang out with a whole group of people. Not by ourselves. Not as a date.

“Are you jealous?” I cross my arms, my brows raising as I stare right back at them. “I thought we agreed this was a one-night thing.”

Wyatt’s jaw tics.

Maverick blows out a deep breath.

They are.Holy shit. They’re totally jealous.

“So…” Maverick clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Your brother. He’s deaf?”

My eyes narrow, and I’m about to call them out on their bullshit, but decided maybe it’s best if I let them change the subject. It’s certainly safer. “Yep. Has been most his life.”

Wyatt nods, his shoulders deflating slightly, but his hands are still fisted at his sides. “Is that why he needs surgery?”

I blow out a breath and glance between them. “If I answer all your questions, will you leave?”

“Maybe.” This is from Maverick which doesn’t exactly make me hopeful.

“Then yes. He’s getting cochlear implants in a few weeks which is unfortunately not covered by our insurance. Thanks to your generous donations, I was able to get it scheduled, but don’t worry, I won’t be taking much time off. Just the day of surgery. I was going to clear it with you guys on Monday.”

“Nonsense.”

“Excuse me?”

Maverick takes a step toward me, his eyes blazing, and I’m not sure why. They can afford to miss me for one day. If I needto, I can always sort and reply to emails at the hospital. “You’re not taking the day off. You’ll be taking the time you need. The time he needs. If you feel like you need something to keep you occupied, you’re more than welcome to work from home, but it won’t be a requirement.”

Wyatt glances around my apartment, walking deeper into the living room, and just when I think he’s going to try out my couch, he turns back to us. “Where’s your room? There’s a bathroom and the room your brother went in.” His gaze sweeps into Colin’s room which has definitely been decorated by a teenage boy. “That’s obviously his. Where do you sleep? Where are your parents?”

I shift, suddenly wishing we were back to talking about their jealousy and the longevity of our relationship. This isn’t exactly a conversation I want to get in with them. Ever. But they’re both staring at me expectantly, and it’s crystal clear they’re not going to let this go. “Which question do you want an answer to?”

He crosses his arms, his frown deepening. “Cute, Kinsley.”

“I think I am.” I shift my gaze to Maverick, hoping he’ll change the subject, but he crosses his arms too, his entire demeanor mirroring Wyatt’s. “My parents died three years ago.”

“And your room.”

“You’re in it.” I do my best to make my voice upbeat even though I’m dying on the inside. I don’t need them feeling sorry for me or my brother, and I sure as hell don’t want the looks of pity they’re throwing my way.

Maverick shares a look with Wyatt I can’t quite decipher and says flatly, “That explains the lumpy couch.”

There’s a beat of silence, tension swirling around us, and it’s choking me. I can’t deal with it. Not right now. So I sweep my arms toward the door and plaster a sunny smile on my face. “Well, this has been great. I know where you live. You knowwhere I live. If you don’t mind, I’d really love to get on with my day.”

They continue to stare at me, unmoving for several seconds, and then Wyatt clears his throat, a flash of hurt crossing his face, but it’s gone so quickly I’m not sure I saw it correctly. He was the one who very easily said we’ll forget last night ever happened.

Sure, afterward, they held me while I slept, brought me coffee, drove me home…but that doesn’t mean anything. It can’t.

---