11. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
O ne morning was, essentially, like all the rest. Quiet. Boring. Lex could hear the hum of the fridge over the scrape of his chair. It smelled like burnt toast and coffee, heavy and stagnant, and Lex had resigned himself to counting how many times Morgan blinked.
Two weeks .
Two weeks of the same routine. Two weeks of suffocating silence at breakfast. Two weeks without Morgan saying jack-shit about what happened in the woods.
Lex tapped the edge of his mug with his thumbnail, biting back his frustration. Two weeks of no follow-up. Of tip-toeing around the truth like it had never happened. He slammed the mug down—too hard—sloshing coffee over the side of the rim and onto the table. The mess only added to his pissed-off mood.
“I wanna go to the bar after work sometime again.”
Morgan’s eyes flicked up, one eyebrow arched. He had a butter knife in one hand, toast in the other, and judging by that expression? He was more annoyed than he was letting on.
“By ourselves?” Morgan asked finally. His gaze dropped back to the bread, spreading the butter so damn evenly it looked like a picture.
“ No. Jesus, no. We could take someone else along.”
“I haven’t found anyone I’m interested in enough to see outside of my nine-to-five.”
The bar —the easiest, dumbest story Lex could think of when Kate had started asking questions that night. He could still see the tears in her eyes, the way her concern morphed into disbelief when he kept repeating he was fine.
No, his ankle wasn’t broken. No, his nose wasn’t broken. No, she didn’t need to worry.
And that was the thing: nothing was actually broken. Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, and dealing with it the next day felt like walking on broken glass and breathing in fire but… he was back to his usual self in less than a week .
But Morgan’s whispers in his ear, telling Lex how good he’d done? That made him so light-headed he almost fell up the stairs.
Even now, it sent a shiver down his spine.
Lex wiped up the coffee and curled his hands around the mug, the tiny smile tugging at his mouth. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t, but the words slipped out anyway, casual as anything.
“We could bring Kate with us.”
Kate’s head snapped up so fast that Lex almost laughed. Her eyes were wide, hopeful—excited as hell. It made him feel bad for maybe a second. Maybe two. Then the feeling dissolved.
He had no interest in seeing tiny, terrified Kate in the woods, but if Morgan would go back to being phone Morgan for a little bit? Even if Lex had to record them screwing or whatever the fuck Morgan wanted to do…
It would be worth it.
Morgan’s voice cut through the thought, too sharp. “No.”
“I’m sure she’s dying to get out of the house, aren’t you, Kate?”
Kate nodded, but the moment her eyes darted to Morgan, it stopped mid-motion. Her throat worked as she swallowed, and she stayed quiet.
“No means no,” Morgan said. “The bar isn’t a place for someone like Kate. She has other things keeping her busy.”
Lex snorted, leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping on the side of the mug. Fine.
It was probably a terrible idea anyway. The normal, half-functional part of Lex knew that much.
Maybe the loneliness was getting in the way.
Or the jealousy.
The office, one of those pretentious high-rises downtown, greeted him at seven a.m., the glass panels reflecting the washed-out gray sky. The temperatures were plummeting already and they weren’t even out of October.
Lex hated admitting it—even to himself—but he’d started to enjoy coming here every day. It wasn’t the soul-sucking numbers shit that he loved. God, no. He hadn’t become some business prodigy overnight.
It was the change of pace. The people .
Since his car was fixed, Lex hadn’t needed to hitch a ride. Upside? Not having to endure Morgan’s biting commentary. Downside? Now Morgan barely acknowledged him most days. Even in the elevator, headed to the top floor, Morgan was silent, buried in his phone.
He could hear a pin drop.
When the damn thing dinged, metal doors sliding apart to reveal the hustle and bustle, Lex exhaled all at once.
“Good morning, Lex,” Claire, the receptionist, said, her smile warmer than usual. She glanced over to Morgan and it changed—firmer, less genuine.
“Good morning, Mr. Delacroix.”
Morgan didn’t respond. Didn’t nod. Didn’t even say bite me , for fuck’s sake. He breezed past like she was invisible.
“Morning, Claire,” Lex muttered. He watched Morgan turn the corner, still absorbed in the phone, before looking back at her. “How’s it going? ”
Claire flushed slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Busy as usual, but better now that you’re here.”
Lex’s lips twitched. It was painfully obvious now where Morgan’s god complex had come from—hell, Lex couldn’t deny the kick he was getting out of it.
Any attention trumped none.
“My day’s better seeing you, too,” he chuckled, leaning over the desk. “Has Steve gotten in yet? We were supposed to talk about the Dunhill expansion before the meeting.”
“No. He has the morning scheduled off for an appointment.” Claire glanced at the monitor, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “The final copy should be on your desk. If it’s not, I’ll reprint it and hand it to you myself.”
This. This was normal.
Life at work was easy. Pleasant. The people surrounding him were accommodating. Someone always had a bagel, or a latte, or was happy to run whatever errand he needed. Things needed fixing. Deadlines…
It gave his brain something to chew on that wasn’t Morgan, even if half the time it felt as if that’s all he did.
Halfway to his office, Lex spotted her—a junior associate who he’d caught staring at him all week.
Now, Claire? Claire was fine, sure, but she wasn’t his type. Too reserved. Too proper.
But this girl? Whoever she was? Different story entirely .
Politeness had shifted to professional distance, and when that didn’t stick, Lex had stopped pretending. He let himself eye-fuck her from across the room, every smirk from her an invitation, whether she meant it or not.
Lex was still debating if he should make a move, hand resting on the door handle when he heard Morgan’s voice; loud as hell and so far past annoyed he sounded pissed .
“Whitlock, my office. Now .”
What the hell had he done this early to deserve Morgan laying into him?
And why couldn’t Morgan have brought it up in the elevator? Or, god forbid, the damn parking garage?
Straightening his jacket, he made his way across. A few employees glanced up from their desks as he passed, some offering quick smiles, others whispering to each other. He let the glass door shut behind him.
“You could just, I don’t know, call me Lex like everyone else.”
Instead of answering, Morgan rounded the desk and sank into the chair, eyes glued to the monitor.
Silence stretched and Lex crossed his arms, waiting. And waiting. When he checked his phone, and over five minutes had passed, he was tempted to leave.
“Did you finish the presentation for the meeting?” Morgan finally asked.
“Finished it last night. We went over it together, remember?”
“That was still incomplete. The client wanted the quarterly reports— ”
“I did that,” Lex interrupted. “Cut me some slack. I’m not you, but I’m not terrible. Give people kudos when they deserve it.”
Morgan’s fingers drummed against the mouse in steady, deliberate taps. Over. And Over. Repetitive. Grating.
The last fraying bit of Lex’s patience snapped.
“Anything else you want to talk about? Something a little more important than the goddamn presentation you saw me finish?”
“Watch your tone.” Morgan didn’t even bother to look up. “Go over the notes so you don’t embarrass us both in an hour.”
Fuck it.
Lex slammed his office door shut and slumped into his chair, rubbing his face with both hands. Whatever connection he thought they’d had, whatever little splinter of fucking humanity he thought he saw in Morgan’s eyes, had done nothing but shove Morgan further away.
The woods had been a huge, massive mistake.
He was in a no-win situation.
Morgan didn’t care. He played games. The admission—the humiliation— hadn’t fazed Morgan in the slightest; it had been entertainment. A sick, screwed-up power play.
Lex sighed, staring at the reports on his desk like they’d personally offended him. Getting through to Morgan wasn’t going to work. Every word was another way to be torn down.
The rest of the six months. That was all that mattered .
Surviving them . Finishing each day without letting Morgan’s bullshit consume him from the inside out.
Lex just needed to stop thinking about him.
Yeah.
Right.
Easier said than done.
Lex had burned every other thought out of his mind except the meeting. He’d holed up in the conference room early, laser-focused on the notes and triple-checking the laptop. Every line he remembered without having to look at the presentation was a win.
Morgan wasn’t going to get the best of him. Not this time.
By the time people started trickling in, Lex was deep in the zone, the pen flipping between his fingers. He barely noticed the shuffling chairs, murmurs—it all turned into background noise. It wasn’t until a set of long, red nails landed on the folder beside him that he snapped out of it.
Oh. Well . His day just took a serious turn for the better.
The junior associate who’d been on his radar was right there. Close. Like too-close close. Dark hair framing her face, full glossy lips, and that low-cut blouse?
Fuck.
There went his attention span.
“Are you nervous?” she mock whispered. “I am too.”
Lex leaned over, dropping his head closer to her ear. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve never done this before. Kinda scared. ”
“Be yourself. It’s what my daddy always tells me.”
Jesus. Lex suddenly had every single urge on the planet to have her call him daddy. But instead, he reeled himself in. Wrong place. Wrong time.
“What’s your name? I’ve seen you around, but I never got a chance to say hi.”
“If you’ve ever heard Mr. Delacroix yell ‘Berry’ that’s me. You can call me Wendy.”
“You’re Steve’s daughter?” He straightened up. Any closer and he’d be able to taste her skin. “Do you believe in fairies, Miss Wendy?”
Wendy sucked her bottom lip through her teeth, her shoulders rising in the slightest shrug.
“I’m a little old for fairies. Unless you have some hidden away that you’d like to show me later.”
Goddamn. That sounded like one hell of an invitation.
Before Lex could fire back with something just as suggestive, the door opened. It cut through the other conversations, and the air shifted—quieter, heavier. Lex didn’t need to look. He knew it was Morgan.
Here we go.
Clearing his throat, he forced himself to focus back on the presentation. This wasn’t the time to think about his dick.
“Let’s get started,” Morgan said, his voice edged with something Lex couldn’t put his finger on.
Updates from the other junior associates were the first orders of business. Paul—barely older than him and already graying—launched into a report so monotone, it could’ve been a lullaby .
Lex didn’t stand a chance. His mind had already wandered off, beyond his control.
What would Wendy look like naked? All those soft, supple curves, her cute voice replaced by something needy. Raw. She’d look perfect stretched across his desk, wouldn’t she? Begging for him, practically aching to be fucked senseless—
His hand twitched, and he widened his eyes, spinning the pen around his fingers again.
Bad Lex. Very bad. Not here. Stop it.
“Whitlock.”
Lex turned, hoping his face stayed neutral, but once he saw Morgan’s expression? Wow . Whoever screwed up his coffee order wasn’t going to survive the day. The glare was enough to make Lex’s skin prickle.
“You wanted to present the preliminary strategy.”
Nodding a little too fast, Lex stood. “Right. Yes. Thank you.” He clicked the remote, bringing up the first slide on the screen. “The goal here is to streamline their operations while maintaining branding. There’s three phases—”
“Streamline?” Morgan interrupted, harder than usual. “Did you consult with the client on that?”
“Well, uh, not directly, but based on their—”
“Not directly,” Morgan repeated, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t even looking at the screen, dark eyes hyper focused on Lex’s face. “So, you don’t know if your strategy aligns with their vision? Am I understanding this right?”
Heat jumped into Lex’s cheeks, but he kept going anyway. “I’ve reviewed their older reports, and I think— ”
“Think,” Morgan cut in again. “You mean you’re guessing . And guessing doesn’t keep clients.”
Lex could only stare, swallowing back the frustration and embarrassment climbing up his throat.
What the hell is happening?
Morgan knew this presentation, probably better than Lex did. He’d seen the damn notes. If he didn’t like it, he had all of yesterday—and the day before, and the day before that— to tell him it was wrong. Maybe help out a little.
But no. Of course not. This wasn’t constructive criticism. This was Morgan, in all his smug, self-righteous glory, ripping Lex apart like some wild animal. In front of everyone.
To make a point.
That’s what it felt like. Exactly what it fucking felt like.
What did I ever do to you?
Sinking in the chair, alone in his office, Lex finally let himself unravel. He’d been coiled so tightly, for so long, that every muscle in his back was screaming.
Crying was not an option.
Throwing the laptop out the window, though? That sounded fucking therapeutic. Watching it explode on the sidewalk would make all this worthwhile.
He had put everything into that presentation. All of it. Every bit of confidence he’d managed to scrape together. He’d been so excited to be able to do something right and then Morgan …
It wasn’t just unfair—it was cruel. Worse, it was Morgan . He always did this. Always. Undermined him. Choked out his ideas. Or worse, claimed them. But today was something else.
The soft click of the door shutting made his stomach flip.
“You looked pathetic in there,” Morgan said, his tone light, like he hadn’t just publicly gutted him.
Lex didn’t move as Morgan crossed the room, footsteps matching the hammering in his chest. Flattening his hands against the desk, Morgan leaned down.
“I think it was a new low. Which, for you, is saying a lot.”
“Sure, Morgan.”
“You’re not even going to deny it? Where’s that fighting spirit, little brother? Or are you too distracted?”
“What’s your problem?” Lex bit out, snapping his head up. “Seriously. What do you have against me?”
“My problem?” Morgan leaned in and Lex froze . The side of Morgan’s nose brushed against his, and his eyes darted to Morgan’s mouth—those faint cracks, too red from the cold… what would—
“You embarrassed me again. You had one job, and you couldn’t even do that because you were wrapped up with a slut in a skirt.”
Confusion broke through whatever the hell had started in Lex’s head.
“What?”
“You two were putting on a show for everyone in there.”
“That’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me,” Morgan murmured, his tone so calm it was icy. “You think I didn’t see the way you were throwing yourself at her? ”
Lex couldn’t help the half-laugh, words tumbling out too fast. “Are you jealous? ”
The crack of something breaking dragged his attention away. Before he could move, Morgan’s hand was on him, gripping his chin hard enough to bruise.
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” Morgan said, his thumb tracing an agonizingly slow line along Lex’s jaw. The world narrowed to Morgan’s hand and the brush of lips so close they almost touched.
Kissing a guy— any guy , even Morgan—hadn’t crossed Lex’s mind until a few seconds ago. Now it was all he could think about.
“Jealousy means I view you as a person,” Morgan continued, his eyes locked on Lex’s. Unblinking. “You’re not. You’re a thing. And as soon as you told me you wanted me, you became my thing.”
“I’m not a thing, Morgan.”
It came out shaky, quieter than Lex meant, like some version of him he didn’t recognize—small, almost timid.
Morgan shifted, his other hand sliding over Lex’s. Too soft. Too damn gentle. His palm settled against the back of Lex’s hand, and every single part of Lex tensed. His muscles locked, already expecting the worst.
Something was unsettling about it. Not sexual or intimate but something other . Something that made Lex’s chest tighten in a way he hated. It was almost enough to make him close the gap and drag his tongue across Morgan’s mouth just to see how he’d taste.
Almost .
Before he could even decide if he wanted to or not, Morgan’s fingers closed like a vice grip around his wrist. Then, with one sudden, yanking movement, the flat of Lex’s hand slammed down.
The pain hit fast and sharp, needling up his arm as the tiny, fractured pieces of something dug into the meat of his palm. Lex jerked back instinctively, but Morgan’s grip only tightened. His weight bore down, pressing the jagged edges deeper.
“Think what you’d like,” Morgan said, finally letting go and straightening. “But if I see you distracted again, you’ll regret it. That’s a promise, not a threat.”
The door shut, leaving the office silent with only Morgan’s words bouncing around his skull. Lex exhaled all at once, wincing.
When he looked down, the shattered remains of a light bulb stared back at him—murky, stained with streaks of his blood. It looked worse than it was, but that didn’t make it any less of a bitch to deal with.
Digging each piece out of his hand brought a new tiny, stinging agony, the tips of his fingers too sticky to get a good grip.
“I’m an actual person, you fucking prick.”
Saying it out loud didn’t make it any less hollow.