Page 139 of Sexting the Boss

Why didn’t he tell me she was here?

And why the hell did she look so smug, like she already knew she still had a place in his world?

I make it halfway up the grand staircase, practically vibrating with questions I won’t let myself ask—because asking them means I care, and caring right now feels stupid and messy.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out, thumb hovering with just enough residual rage to assume it’s Damien.

But no.

Ryan: Hey. Just checking in—everything okay? Still on for tonight?

I stop mid-step, the blood draining from my face.

Tonight?

Friday.

Shit.

I’d completely forgotten.

I blink at the message, brain scrambling through the week. Friday night.

Our date. The one I had casually agreed to like a functioning adult. Before the kidnapping—okay,relocation.

My fingers hover over the keyboard.

Still on for tonight?

My stomach twists.

Because technically, I never canceled.

And technically, Damien isn’t really my boyfriend.

He’s just…the guy who took my virginity, sent my coworkers packing, kissed me like sin, and made me question everything about my life.

No big deal.

I sigh, thumb resting over the screen as I walk to my bedroom and shut it behind me.

I type, erase. Type again. Stare. Sigh. I finally settle on:

Me: Hey! Totally forgot about tonight—sorry, this week’s been…weird. Are we still doing that place near the station?

I hit send and immediately want to launch myself into a hedge.

What am I doing? Why didn’t I just cancel? Say I had food poisoning? Say I got whisked away by a Russian billionaire who might actuallybea Russian mobster?

Ryan replies almost instantly.

Ryan: No worries! Yeah, 7 PM, same place. I’ll grab a table. Can’t wait

Can’t wait. Ugh. I like Ryan. He’s nice. Easy to talk to. He doesn’t come with armed guards and emotionally loaded hallway kisses.

But he also doesn’t make my skin feel electric. He doesn’t look at me like he wants to burn the world down just to keep me warm.

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