Page 58 of Gross Misconduct

“Nature. Science. We’re younger and faster.”

“We have decades more experience than you.”

“Not all things get better with age.”

“You sure about that?” he asks, his voice low and deep. It sends a bolt of heat to my dick that no calming breath could abate. I can’t stop thinking about the feel of his body under my fingers. It wasn’t hairless and tight like guys my age, all muscle and no personality. There was an added heft, a slight sag around his pecs and stomach, mature creases in his forehead. Yes to all of it.

I take a step back, away from this fine specimen of man. “Okay, then. It’s not too late to back out. I have to warn you, I’m good.”

Sure, I say this to brag, but after this morning’s practice, it’s also true. I was on fire today. My passes were sharper. I was faster on the ice. Cleaner shots. Miller and Fuentes both commented on the improvement in my game and that I was finally shaking the rust off. It’s why I was so confident to accept the mayor’s challenge.

Griffin laughs to himself. He tosses the rag on top of his tool chest. “Who are you meeting with today?”

“Alan something and Allison Lembeck?” I’m amazed I remembered their names since I haven’t done any research on them.

“Alan Tudor and Allison Levitt?” he asks.

“That’s it!”

“Alan is Darlene’s boss. He loves airplanes. Ask him about his plane and flying to Nantucket. He’ll chew your ear off about it all day. And Allison loves hockey. Her sons play in the peewee league. She’ll probably spend the whole interview asking for pointers.” I nod and take mental notes. “My guess is this interview is a personality check. Do we want to spend five days a week around this guy? All you have to do is charm them.”

“I can do that. I charmed the pants off you.”

“I recommend you keep their pants on.” Griffin squats down and pulls a drill from the bottom drawer. My comment rolled right off his broad back.

“Thanks again for putting in a good word for me.”

“You didn’t seem grateful. You, uh, pissed on my truck.”

I smack my hand on my forehead. Oh, right, the part of the night before we kissed. I’d blocked it out.

“I’m young and stupid?” I offer.

“You only have a few more years to use that excuse.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m going to crush this interview.” I find myself mustering fake enthusiasm, saying words my heart won’t back up. But Griffin went out on a limb to keep my name in the conversation. I don’t want to embarrass him.

“Yeah.”

Apparently, I’m not the only one mustering fake enthusiasm. I follow Griffin to the opposite side of the plane where he takes another scissor lift to the right wing. He uses the drill to tighten some bolts.

“What does that mean?” I ask over the drilling.

“Huh?”

I wait until he stops, the drilling sound carving right into my head. “I said I’m going to crush this interview, and you were just like whatever. You’ve doubted the Blades can kick your ass, and now you’re doubting I can kick this interview’s ass?”

“I think you can crush it. But I don’t think you want to.”

I toss my head back to look up at him and scowl my objection. “Of course I do. You don’t know shit.”

Griffin is unfazed. In fact, he seems to find joy in my indignation.

“Can you come down? This is hurting my neck.”

The scissor lift lowers to the ground. Griffin gets out and puts the drill away. “It doesn’t seem like you want this job, to be honest. You don’t even know who you’re meeting with.”

“I knew their first names.”

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