Page 68 of Home Game

“The police escort says otherwise.”

I took a deep breath. “I have to do some interviews.”

“I heard.”

“Come in with me.” For some reason, I really wanted Zoey to be there. By my side. Through this hell.

“No thanks.”

“Please,” I said, feeling desperate. “I really don’t want to do this alone.”

“Krista will be there.”

But I wanted Zoey there. “I will take you to dinner at IKEA.”

Her eyes shot to my face. “Do you need to do any more decorating?”

“Yes.” I lied.

“What room?”

I tried to think of a room that didn’t require me to build furniture. “Our bathrooms. You know, we’ll need bathmats and new towels and those fancy cup holders. That kind of shit.”

She opened the door. “Sold.”

We walked toward the building.

“What does a PA do, anyway?” Zoey asked.

“I don’t know. Take charge of my Instagram account. Do my social media. Pick up my dry cleaning. Just general shit.”

She looked crushed. “I could have done your Instagram account. If I had a phone.”

“You like taking pictures?”

Her shrug was almost indiscernible.

I sat lookingat the candidate. Her mouth was moving. She was talking. But I was zoned out. Instead, for some fucked up reason, I was hyper focused on Zoey, who was in my peripheral, sitting at the table, kitty corner from me.

Zoey had a pen and a pad of paper. She was staring at the candidate and the pen was in her mouth. Her pink lips pursed around the tip of that pen. My cock tightened in response.

That was it. I needed to get laid. I needed to find a quick and ready puck bunny that would help diminish all this pent-up energy.

Zoey shifted in her chair, and with her chin propped up on her hand, she slowly chewed on the end of the pen. What kind of sexualexperience did she have? Did she have a wild sexual past? Would she be uninhibited? Or would the shy, blushing Zoey come out?

What would it be like to spread her legs and look up her body? I could watch as that blush flushed over her face and down her chest. God, I would tease her with my mouth until she surrendered with her body, arching up into my mouth, those blue eyes squeezed shut and that mouth…

“Ryan?”

I looked up. The entire room was looking at me.

I froze. “Sorry, what was that?”

Krista pinned me with critical eyes. She was way too fucking observant for her own good. “I was just going to ask you if you had any questions for Bianca?”

Bianca. My eyes glanced at the candidate who smiled at me. She looked like a Step-ford wife dressed in that white wool dress. Her straight blonde hair hung down like a perfect curtain over her shoulders. She was pretty in that cold way I used to like. I had missed the entire interview so I had no idea what to ask.

I cleared my throat and looked over at Zoey, who watched me with those big blue eyes. Her expression was impassive.

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