Page 66 of #Bossholes

“Kinsley.” The way he says my name sounds tortured, like he’s struggling to control himself.

I don’t respond. I can’t. I can only lean into his touch as his gaze shifts between mine and my lips.

My stomach flops, and my heart is beating so wild, so fast I’m afraid I’m going to need medical attention.

He leans closer. His face is inches from mine. His spiced clove scent is surrounding me. Every exhale ghosts across my lips. Electricity hums around us, and for once, I wish I could give in to the pull.

But then the elevator door opens, the dinging sound echoing through the space, and we jump apart.

My hand flies to my chest, my breaths coming in heavy pants as I realize what I almost did. I was seconds away from kissing my boss. At work. In the elevator where anyone could have walked in.

I’m so stupid. So unbelievably stupid.

“I’m so sorry.” I mumble, heat working its way across my face, and I flee. I don’t even grab my lunchbox.

THIRTY-FOUR

Maverick

Well,I massively fucked that up.

Touching Kinsley at work is a huge no, no, and here I am walking out of the elevator, holding a bright pink lunchbox like a dick. Not only did I touch her at work, but I tried to kiss her. What the hell was I thinking?

Newsflash—I wasn’t.

At least one of us has a few working brain cells, and it sure as hell isn’t me.

Perfect timing too. We’re about to go into this meeting with Ember Lynn where everything turns into a battle, and I really need to be on my game. But I’m not. I’m distracted, and if I was a smart man, I’d make sure Kinsley stayed in her office, far away from me, but we all know I’m not going to do that.

“Mr. Wallace.” James, our receptionist, greets me with a curt nod, his eyes cold, detached. Oh, good. He’s pissed too. I have no doubt he saw me trying to kiss Kinsley—Miss Rhodes—and I’m sure he’s disappointed in me and my professionalism.

He can join the club; I’m disappointed too.

I nod back, making no attempt to hide the pink bag dangling from my fingers. There’s no point in trying to conceal it now, anda move like that will only make me look guilty. “James, please get everyone set up in conference room one. Make sure there’s plenty of water and for the love of god, remove any alcohol. I don’t need Mrs. Lynn using our meeting as an excuse to pregame for whatever event she’s going to tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’m off down the hallway, intent on apologizing to Kinsley when Brantley catches me in the hall. His brows shoot up toward his hairline, and I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of a smile as he takes me in. “Packing your own lunch?”

“I thought I’d watch the carbs. This body is a temple after all.”

He laughs and eyes me skeptically. “Maybe one of those old temples, one that’s falling apart and in desperate need of repair. Probably haunted.”

“Ouch.” I hold a hand over my wounded heart and shake my head. “And here I was thinking you were my favorite Ellis.”

He grunts and shifts his laptop bag to his other hand. “Don’t be ridiculous; I know Wyatt is your favorite.”

“I know I’m someone’s favorite.” I hold up the lunchbox, knowing it’ll only piss him off, remind him of the thing, or rather the person, he passed up on.

But, of course, that’s when Kinsley stomps out of her office, snatching it out of my hand and tossing it in behind her. “You’re not mine.”

Her face is stony, unreadable, and I hate it. She should be softening toward me. She should be thinking back to last weekend. She should be wishing it could happen again. But no, I fucked all that.

Before I have a chance to apologize, to try to make things right, she’s off down the hall, her laptop and a notepad clutched to her chest.

Brantley watches her go, but as soon as she turns the corner, his eyes are back on me, and the look he’s giving me is one I don’t appreciate. He’s amused. Fucker. “What did you do to piss her off?”

I bristle, smoothing down my tie and fiddling with the buttons on my jacket. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

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