Page 38 of Fang
Cami.
She looked so fucking beautiful this morning it was almost hard to breathe. I don’t know why, but I love how she dresses for comfort when she’s not here and not for attention. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good pair of skintight jeans and a low top ona beautiful woman, but there’s just something about her looking like she should be curled up in bed rather than wandering around town running errands.
When she answered the door, I had to stop myself from pulling her into my arms. I loved the way she was shocked to see me. The way she blinked more than once, like she was trying to make sure I was really there and it wasn’t a dream. It took everything in me not to barge into her cramped-ass dorm room and throw her down onto her bed. Instead, I took her to class.
Just thinking of dropping her off reminds me of that asshole I saw that approached her. Who the hell is he? How does she know him? Is he an ex? Some dickbag who is pursuing her? I want to know. I need to know.
I can’t ask, though, because it’s none of my business. Something that I’m sure Cami would be quick to remind me if I asked.
I have no claim over her whatsoever, even though I wish I did.
Still, I can’t help but wonder. Whoever he is, I know one thing: the feelings aren’t mutual. She looked at him with so much disdain I’m surprised he was standing. Even from a distance, I could see hate rolling off of her in waves. She’s lucky she walked away when she did. Otherwise I don’t know if I would have been able to stop myself from stepping in.
I know it would have made her lose her mind on me, but it would have been worth it.
Because I’m a misogynist who would rather have her attention on me than anyone else.
A knock on the office door pulls me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I say gruffly as I run a hand through my hair.
Happy walks in and shuts the door behind him before moving to sit in the chair in front of me. I raise a brow when he kicks his boots up onto the edge of my desk.
“Seriously?”
“What? They’re clean,” he protests.
I shake my head.
“Liquor order has been counted, accepted, and put away.”
He reaches into his cut and pulls out a receipt.
“Thank you.” I lean forward and take it from him.
I set it on the desk and lean back. “Anything else happening out there?”
He nods. “Yeah, cleaning crew just got done.”
While we clean nightly, once a week I have a crew come in to properly disinfect the place. I should probably do it more, but that’s a problem for when business picks up more.
“Cool. They put everything back how it’s supposed to be?”
He dips his chin once and rests his hands on his stomach, lacing his fingers together. “Prospect One made sure of it.”
“Thanks for taking care of that for me.”
“It’s no problem.”
I expect him to get up and leave, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he makes himself more comfortable.
“What are you doing?” I ask after a minute.
“Waiting for you to tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Work,” I tell him, looking back at the computer screen.
Happy shoots me a look that says I’m full of shit. “Try again.”
