12. Chapter 12
12
Smells Like Sex
As I walk into the office this morning, I can already tell something is off.
Maybe it’s not the office; maybe it’s me. My workout this morning was mediocre at best, and thanks to Holt failing his promise on my birthday, I still haven't gotten laid. Now, it has been a few months since I’ve had sex, and that needs to change soon, or else my dick is going to fall off from how much I’ve been wanking.
I feel like a stupid fucking teenager again, and I hate it. I’m an attractive man; I should be able to go out and pick somebody up with no problem.
I’m off my game lately, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to start smoking again. I quit when I found out about my dad’s heart issues, but every now and again, when I’m stressed, I crawl right back to cigarettes.
I greet a few people as I head back to my office. I don’t stop in Ella’s office to say good morning—the last thing I want to do is make this already weird day worse.
But when I flick the light on in my office, I notice an array of colors around the room.
My entire office is covered in sticky notes.
What the fuck?
I hear a click form behind me, and when I spin around, Ella is taking a picture of me standing in my office.
“Do you like it? I thought it could use a pop of color, so I redecorated for you.”
I sigh heavily. Of course, this was her doing. “Is this amusing to you?”
She nods her head at me. “Yeah, actually, it is. Have you seen your face?” She tries to turn her phone around to show me, but I grab her wrist and shove her against my wall, pissed off and annoyed she took the time to do this.
“What happened to being civil in the workplace?” I ask her, noting what she said the first time we worked together here.
“What is with you and shoving me against things? First your door, and now a wall.” She tries to shake out of my hold, but I have a decent grip on her.
“Answer the fucking question, Ella.”
“It’s just a stupid prank. I’ll even help you take them all down if you're going to be a little bitch about it.” Her words come out breathless, as if there's not enough air in my tiny office for her.
“I don't need your help. I need you to leave me the fuck alone so I can work.”
Her eyes drill into mine, almost murderous. I’d think she’d be able to kill me if I didn't have her caged against my wall. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d get a kick out of this because of how competitive we are.”
“My problem is you.” You’re always around, always pushing me to my limits. Today started out terribly, and you’re making it fucking worse. And as the cherry on top, Ella smells like sex. She smells like she has been fucked recently, and it’s invading my senses and driving me crazy.
Only because I’m not having any.
An image flashes through my mind of her coming undone beneath me all those years ago, and I feel an urge to smear her maroon lipstick all over her face while she chokes on my cock.
I can feel my dick jerk in my pants. Jesus, I need to calm the fuck down. But I can’t do that around her. She makes every molecule of my body pissed off with her cold stares, snide comments, and now, her stupid fucking pranks.
“You’re a fucking jerk,” Ella says. “Let me go, Zimmerman. Now.”
I tilt my head at her, a challenge in my features.
“Why don’t you make me, Williams?”
And then, she spits on me.
Pride laces her features as she looks up at me, thinking she won this round.
“Open that mouth, darling. It’s my turn.”
I feel her pulse start to quicken, and just when I think she’s going to back down, she does the last thing I expect and opens her mouth. My eyes won’t leave hers, her pupils so dilated, I can barely see her brown eyes underneath them. It’s like we’re locked in some sort of trance as we stand here, chest to chest.
I wonder what she’s thinking about as she stares at my mouth, waiting with bated breath to see if I’m actually going to follow through with what I said.
If I was, I don’t know if anything could make me stop. I don’t know if I could simply touch her lips without needing more from her.
Woah. Absolutely the fuck not .
Needing to get the fuck out of this room that suddenly feels too small, I leg it to the kitchen to get some breakfast, and I manage to avoid Ella for the rest of the day.
The Next Day
I’m in the office early today so I can see the look on Ella’s face when she walks in. Yesterday, she beat me. She got the best of me, and I can admit that.
It only took me a half an hour to get all the sticky notes off, but today’s prank might take Ella slightly longer than that.
She started this, after all. I’m playing into her hands if this is how she wants to do shit around here. Ella normally gets here before I do, but today, I arrived extra early, even skipping my workout so I could pull this off. About an hour passes before I hear her and Rae talking in her office. I can tell Ella is here because it just got a few degrees colder.
I hear her shut Rae’s door, and I see her body float across my window before the light goes on in her office.
Show time.
I can hear her gasp before I fully open my door.
“What? Is there something wrong with your present?” I ask as I lean against my door frame, a smile bursting from my face. I have to admit, it’s way better being on this side of things.
“What the hell did you do?” Ella asks as she lifts her stapler—which is wrapped in Holiday paper. Her entire office is gift wrapped.
It took me all fucking morning, but seeing the look on her face made it worth it.
“You gave me a present, so I thought I’d return the favor. Merry fucking Christmas, Ella.” I smile at her again, and by the look on her face, I can tell she’s thinking about how many ways she can slap it right off my face.
“It’s September. You’re a few months early, jackass.”
“Oh, come on. It’s just a prank, and I can help you unwrap it all,” I give her the same words she said to me yesterday morning.
Ella only continues to glare at me before she looks back at her stapler. I bet she’s thinking about throwing it at me, but that wouldn't work out in her favor, and she knows it.
Plus, we’re at work, and both of us have done stupid shit like this. If either of us went to HR, it would only cause a bunch of mindless paperwork.
“Ready to concede?” I ask her, and all she does is shake her head at me.
“No. Are you?” she asks as she walks toward me, her chin jutting out in front of her. Ella Williams, always the confident and self-assured woman—in public.
“Nope,” I say, my jaw tensing.
She leans closer to me, her hands flat on the lapels of my jacket as she smooths them out, even though I ironed this last night.
“Can I help you with something, Miss Williams?”
“No, Mr. Zimmerman. I just want you to watch your back,” she leans in closer to me, “because I’m coming for you. Consider this your only warning.”
“Don’t worry.” I lean down to her ear. “I’ve seen you come for me before, and the sight was astonishing, so I’m not worried, darling.”
And then I head back into my office and close my door.
A few hours into working on my proposal, I step out of my office to grab some lunch from the kitchen, and my phone buzzes.
Grant: Hey man, you up for drinks tonight?
Leo: Yeah, that sounds good. Just us?
Grant: Oliver might come too. Is that okay?
Leo: Birthday boy?
Grant: Yup.
Leo: That’s fine. Just let me know where to be and when.
Grant: Will do. See you later.
Leo liked a message.
I guess my night just got a lot more interesting. Hopefully, tonight, I can pick someone up, because between this thing with Ella, the contract for the publishing house, and everything else, I need to relieve some stress.
And I might as well have some fun while doing so.
“Dude, don't embarrass me in front of—” Grant stops what he was saying as he notices me. “Leo! Hey! What’s up, man?”
I sit down next to him at the small table with Oliver, and Grant slides a drink over to me.
“I remembered what you preferred,” he tells me.
“Thanks. This is so needed after the crappy week I’ve had.”
“Too much time spent with Ella, huh?” Oliver asks me.
I forgot these two run in the same social circle. I wonder what she told them about me. I doubt it’s anything good. “You could say that.”
“Yeah, she’s scary until you get to know her. She’s a good person to have around. If you’re on her good side, at least.”
I look at Grant as if he’s speaking a different language. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only person on her bad side, then.”
I take a long sip of my drink, the alcohol hopefully loosening some of the tension I’ve felt the past few weeks.
“It can’t be that bad at work. Ella thought about quitting before, and she hasn't yet, so you two must be getting along, right?”
“Grant, stop asking about her. I told you he wouldn’t answer any of your questions,” Oliver says to him rather sharply.
“I want to hear both sides of the story!” Grant pauses to take a sip. “I’ve tried talking to her, and she’s as closed off about you as you are about her.”
“Because they have a history, asshole,” Oliver tells him, and he’s right. Damn, does Ella talk about me that much, or are these two just smart?
Grant and I have slowly become friends. I knew about him from Liam, since they were both on the hockey team together, and when we were formally introduced at Oliver’s party last year, I liked him. He’s fun, and he’s got a good energy, which is exactly the opposite of Oliver.
I don’t know him that well, but I’m pretty sure they’re connected through their girlfriends, who are members of Ella’s book club.
“So, how did you two become so close?” I ask, changing the subject off Ella fucking Williams. It’s bad enough she pushes all my buttons at work; I’d rather not talk about her after hours.
“I’m dating his sister,” Grant says as Oliver grunts.
“I’m dating my sister’s best friend,” Oliver tells me as he sips his water bottle. “Well, one of them.”
“How many of them are there?” I ask. Ella makes three, but I thought there were a few more. My sister used to talk about this book club a lot, and I always assumed there were more people.
“Four,” Oliver tells me. “There’s your girl, the other is overseas, so she’s not around as much.”
Oliver looks happy about that fact, but I don't miss the look that crosses Grant’s face. There’s a history there, but I’m not going to ask about it. “Ella isn't my girl.”
“Keep lying to yourself, buddy.”
“Grant, stop.” Oliver smacks him on the arm. “Leo, how are you enjoying the States?”
“It’s fine, I guess. I miss my family a lot, but having my sister here helps a little bit.”
“Do you still wanna hit the gym tomorrow morning?” Grant asks me, and I forgot we were going to work out together tomorrow.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I tell him. “Oliver, do you want to join us?’
“No thanks,” he says.
Grant smacks him on the shoulder. “This guy? In a gym?”
He shrugs. “I prefer the pavement.”
“Ah, that’s understandable,” I say as I sip the last of my drink. “I’m gonna get another. Either of you fancy one?”
“I’m good,” Oliver says.
“Yeah, I’ll take one.”
“Cool,” I say as I head up to the bar. It’s not too loud in here, but music is playing that I don’t recognize, and that makes me feel old as fuck. I shift my gaze around the space, hoping someone catches my eye. A few girls are already staring at me, and I try to think of something I can say to any of them, but my mind draws a blank.
Am I never going to be able to flirt with anyone ever again? What the hell is wrong with me?
I know what I look like, and I used to be able to smooth talk my way into anything. I don't know if all this shit with my family has fucked with my head more than I thought, or what. I don't know what my issue is, and it’s pissing me off.
The only time my dick has been hard over a woman lately is when I’ve been fighting with Ella in our stupid prank war. Maybe I’m ill. Maybe that’s why my dick seems attracted to the person who pushes my fucking buttons more than anyone on the planet.
That has got to be why.
I somehow need to get out of my own head enough to be able to talk to normal women again. I tilt my head from side to side, feeling my neck crack, and some of the tension loosens as I grab the drinks and head back to the table.
“Do you guys ever have a hard time flirting?”
“Well, not really. It’s easy to flirt with my girlfriend. I just—”
Oliver almost shoves Grant out of his chair. “If you talk about what you and my sister do in your free time, I’m going to have to kill you.” Oliver turns to me. “I was terrible at it. Are you out of practice or something?”
“I don’t even think you have to flirt. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“Yes, Grant. This morning, and I looked fucking fantastic, as usual.” I run a hand through my hair. “But that’s not enough.”
“Maybe you need practice,” Oliver says, and Grant and I look at him like he’s crazy. “Or maybe you have to get your confidence back. When was the last time you talked to someone one-on-one?”
This morning, with Ella. “I can’t remember.”
“Flirting is like riding a bike: you remember how to do it, but sometimes, you get a little rusty. It’s okay to ease back into it if you need to.”
I stop myself from saying it has been months since I’ve been able to pick someone up; these two don’t need to know that. I don't even know why I’m confiding in them about this.
“Hey, can we keep this between us?”
“We won’t tell her anything,” Oliver says. “Unless she asks me, then I’m not lying. Ella still scares the shit out of me.”
“More than Amelia does?” Grant asks him. Amelia… That name sounds familiar. I bet she’s the fourth member of the book club.
“Did. She’s not around anymore, Grant. She’s officially past tense in my eyes.”
“Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”
Both of their phones buzz on the table, and when they pick them up, they both smile.
Jesus, is that what being in love is like? Any time my phone buzzes, I assume it’s bad news about my dad coming through. I’ve never looked that happy about anything before.
“Sorry, Leo, we have to cut tonight a bit short. The girls might have set Oliver’s apartment on fire.”
“Go,” I say as I finish off my drink. “We’ll catch up another time soon, I’m sure.”
“Nice to see you again, Zimmerman.” Grant smacks my shoulder. “I’ll text our group chat to make plans next time.”
“When did you have time to make a group chat?” Oliver asks him.
“When Leo was at the bar, duh.”
“That sounds good to me. I’m gonna head out too. I have an early morning tomorrow. I’m sure Ella has been up all night planning her next prank.”
“Prank?” Grant asks me.
And as the three of us walk out the door, I wave my hand at them. “That’s a story for next time.”