Page 114 of Don't Let Me Break

My Prickly Porcupine

Not unless you can make it easier for me to memorize stuff.

Me

I’d be happy to help you study.

My Prickly Porcupine

Pretty sure you’d distract me with all your manly muscles.

Ichuckle and type my response.

Me

You gotta learn about human anatomy, right? Happy to take one for the team.

My Prickly Porcupine

Of course, you would be. Unfortunately, I already passed anatomy before my medication swap, so…I guess I won’t need your services this time around. Maybe next time. ;) Good luck with your meeting. I’ll see you soon.

There’s a buzz beneath my skin as I open the door to B-Tech Enterprises. It’s been a week since Kate and I had sex for the first time, and even though she’s been busy with school, we’ve spent almost every night together. Whether it’s at her place or mine, it hasn’t mattered. And it’s been nice. Being with someone. Being with her.

After this meeting, we’ll have the whole weekend together. We’re driving up to her parents’ house. I’m trying to tell myself it isn’t a big deal, but I’m excited. Excited to meet her parents. Excited to learn more about her and how she was raised. Excited to prove I’m in this for the long haul, even if she isn’t ready to put a label on our relationship.

But first, I have to get through this meeting, and I have no idea why I’m here.

The building is flashy and luxurious. Steel beams. Dark leather. Glass windows. And black marble. Hell, I can almost smell the money wafting through the heated air as I walk toward the receptionist’s desk in the center of the open main floor.

With a pair of glasses propped on her nose, the young woman stops clicking her manicured fingernails against the keyboard and looks up at me.

“Hello, sir. How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr.––Dr.––Buchanan?” I offer.

Fuck, I sound like an idiot.

She smiles and points to an elevator on her left. “Take the elevator to the twenty-fifth floor. His personal assistant will help you from there.”

“Thanks.”

I follow the receptionist’s directions until the elevator opens, revealing the twenty-fifth floor. Huge windows line the walls from the floor to the ceiling, showcasing an excellent view of the city below. It’s different than my view at home. More buildings. Fewer trees. But just as memorable.

If Buchanan wanted to make a statement by asking to meet here instead of on campus, it’s working.

A pretty brunette sits behind a black desk and smiles when she sees me. “You must be Mr. Taylor, correct?”

“Yeah.” I wipe my sweaty palms onto my jeans, trying not to look like a fish out of water. I doubt I’m successful. It doesn’t matter if I was raised in an upper-middle-class family. It doesn’t matter if I have more money in the bank than I could ever need. This atmosphere? It reeks of wealth, security, and power in a way I’ll never be able to replicate.

I don’t want to.

I don’t need to.

But it does fan my curiosity.

Why did Buchanan reach out to Russ and schedule this meeting?

The assistant pushes a button on her phone system and speaks quietly into her headset. Standing, she motions to a large set of black doors. They must be ten feet tall.

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