Page 55 of The Boyfriend Effect (Frisky Business 1)
When Hayes can’t take any more of my sweet torture, he moves on top of me. Covering my body with his, he thrusts forward, filling me with a powerful stroke.
Clutching him tightly, I say a silent prayer that whatever luck I’ve found to win him over never runs out. I’m falling hard and fast, and can’t imagine ever going back to being just friends with this incredible man.19* * *HAYESThings have been good lately. Too good, almost. It’s making me suspicious. Antsy. Like at any moment, everything could fall apart, just like that.
Maybe that’s why I’m so on edge these days. I keep finding myself flinching when someone opens a door too quickly, or when Wolfie calls my name from across the room. Even when I’m not with Maren, I can’t quite seem to relax. It’s really starting to mess with my head.
Don’t get me wrong—Maren is incredible. My little dove is as potent a sexpot as ever. I’m the one who can’t stop acting like a little kid who’s afraid of going to bed without the lights on.
That’s why I’ve decided to get away, just for the night. I packed up an overnight bag this morning and let Rosie know I was going to go check on the cabin. By sunset, it’ll be me, a six-pack, and a bonfire sitting lakeside at the cabin. I’m hoping some alone time will help clear my head.
The workday goes by like any other. Ever and Caleb schmooze a few customers while Wolfie and I go over the new product line in the back. He’s finally dropped the whole “how’d you test the new shit” act, thank God. I don’t know how much longer I could insist that I wasn’t fucking my grandma, without physically making myself sick.
You’d think I could have made up some kind of white lie or something to cover my tracks, but in my experience, any kind of deception, even something that seems small, will come back to bite you in the ass in the end. And I’m already in enough hot water with the Maren and Wolfie situation, I don’t want to make things even more complicated by throwing a fake, imaginary hookup into the mix.
“Hey, man, you good?” Wolfie asks when he catches me eyeing the clock for the twelfth time today.
“What, me? Yeah, no, I’m good, all good here, bro,” I stammer back. Smooth.
Wolfie gives me a disapproving look, but shrugs and doesn’t press it any further.
Still, I have to say something. I can’t just let it stay all weird like that.
“I mean, I’m just anxious to get out of here today, you know? Not that I don’t love this job. Just really itching for some me time, you feel me?”
Wolfie shakes his head and chuckles dryly. “Me time. Sure, man, whatever floats your boat. Just remember that you’ve already taken your product samples for this quarter. We do track that shit, you know.”
Fuck. Now Wolfie thinks I’m a grade-A perv. Whatever. Better than him knowing the truth, I guess.
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
“No, but seriously, dude, if you need a break, you should have said something. Why don’t you skip out early?”
I stare at him in disbelief. Is this the Wolfie who started this company with me? The same Wolfie who created the schedule that gives me about three days off a year?
Then I glance at the clock. Four forty-five. All right, that makes more sense.
I slap a hand on his back. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your understanding.”
He nods and continues typing away, only half registering my gratitude. But that’s fine with me. Either way, I’m one step closer to my lake time and bonfire.
I spend the drive to the lake house going over all the possible scenarios of what might happen with Maren in my head. Historically, I’m not the kind of guy with the best track record.
Things just don’t work out well for me. Hell, that’s why I swore off women in the first place. And I can’t help but worry that the same thing will happen with Maren, no matter how good and right things feel now. That epic breakup with Samantha throwing my shit out the window isn’t a scenario I want to repeat again, and I couldn’t live with myself if Maren ever hated me.
Because it’s not like relationships ever start out obviously bad. Okay, maybe I’ve had a couple start out that way. But for the most part, I jump into things because of how perfect they seem on the surface. It’s only once we start swimming deeper that I notice all the murkiness and sharp rocks waiting down below.
But Maren has to be different, right? She’s not just some girl I met at a bar, or hell, even some girl I swiped right on from some app. She’s Maren. Wolfie’s sister. We’ve known each other forever. That has to mean something. What I can’t tell is whether what that means is something good or something very, very bad. Either way, I’m afraid of failure and need to get my head on straight.
