Page 33 of The Most Perfect Wrong

“Oh. Um, yeah. I had drinks with Ryan, at work, if you can believe that.” I laugh, trying to downplay it. “I actually drank margaritas at work, with my sort of boss, while working. How cool is my job?”

“What? Yeah, your job gets cooler every time I talk to you. But can we go back to you having drinks with Ryan? What’s that about?”

I laugh uncomfortably, feeling a weird knot forming in my stomach. “Well, we were working late, and he said he needed a break—asked if I wanted to go upstairs to the cocktail lounge for drinks. He said we could work there. So, we did, and it was productive and fun.”

“What do you mean by fun?” she presses, her tone full of curiosity.

I choose my words carefully. “I don’t know. We worked, we laughed, it wasn’t anything serious. That kind of fun.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Are you slowly falling in love with your boss?”

“Okay, shut up.”

She laughs. “Relax. I’m joking. I just find it interesting that Ryan went from one-night stand, to boss, to hating him, to working with him, to now you’re having drinks together and enjoying his company. I mean, it’s confusing, sis.”

I roll my eyes as I get up to make coffee. “Yeah, I guess it is,” I mutter.

“Do you like him?”

“Casey, don’t ask me that. Why would you ask that when you know I love Brad?” I reach for the coffee grounds, my fingers fumbling as I try to sound casual. “I know you don’t like him, but…”

“But,” Casey cuts in, her voice dripping with teasing sarcasm, “it’s hard not to notice you’re having fun with your boss—oh wait, I mean the guy you had the most incredible sex of your life with.”

My heart skips a beat. I try to laugh it off, but the comment hits me like a ton of bricks—forcing me to look at it—the truth of it. I open my mouth to respond just as the front door unlocksand swings open. Brad walks in, his keys jangling as he steps inside.

“Oh, hey, Brad just got home. Can I call you back later?”

“Yeah, call me tomorrow. I’ll be busy the rest of the day.”

“Okay, great. Love you,” I say, keeping my voice steady as I glance toward Brad, who’s setting his things down on the countertop.

“Love you too, sis,” Casey replies.

I end the call, walking over to Brad. “Hey, I didn’t think you’d be home for another hour or so.”

“The flight landed early.” His eyes travel over me. “Did you just wake up?” he asks, chuckling.

I glance down at my oversized T-shirt and bare legs, trying not to laugh. “Yep,” I admit. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, trying to shake off the lingering unease from my conversation with Casey. “How was your trip? Did you get everything done that you were hoping for?”

“Yeah. It was a very successful trip. I managed to satisfy our pain-in-the-ass client and close that deal.”

“Ah, that’s great, babe. Are you hungry? I can make us some brunch.” His hand slides under my shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my waist.

“You don’t have any shorts on?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“No, sir, I do not,” I reply seductively.

Brad lifts me onto the countertop, his hand sliding up my thigh. “Then I know exactly what I want for brunch,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine. I inhale sharply, letting my legs spread to make room for him.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I missed you too,” I whisper. His body feels good against mine, familiar. I melt into his kiss, his hands wandering higher, fingers brushing the edge of my underwear. A pulse beats between my thighs as his mouth trails down my neck.

“I want you,” I murmur, my hands caressing the back of his neck, desperate to forget my phone call with Casey.

“Patience,” he says with a chuckle, slipping his hand beneath the fabric. I gasp, letting go of everything but the way he makes me feel.

We don’t make it to the bedroom. We stay right there on the counter, lost in each other. Afterward, I clean up and make us some brunch.

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