Chapter Eight
Ezra
I’d thrown myself into work and spent the day editing and posting the first-day-of-training video, making endless graphics and templates and schedules, booking advertising, sitting through two tedious meetings that could have been emails, and reviewing a budget report.
Half of this stuff wasn’t even my job, but with Leigh off ill, it was easy to convince Adam, who was the third and most junior member of our team, to let me give him a hand getting stuck in.
Technically, as Head of Communications, Social Media, and Marketing, I was the one signing off on content and designing strategies rather than making them.
But Adam had only started a few weeks ago, when I’d finally convinced the people holding the purse strings that we needed another member of the marketing team to actually get shit done, and I wasn’t about to let him drown.
Plus I’d discovered I liked making content. It was a fun way to play with things creatively and a nice distraction from my own thoughts.
It was surprising how time-consuming editing video and designing shit was, and when I finally looked up from everything I’d been aiming to get done, it was nearly half five.
I vaguely remembered Adam leaving, saying something like he’d talk to me tomorrow, but I couldn’t be sure when that had been. All I knew was I really shouldn’t be here this late.
Oh well. On the scale of misguided shit I’d done today, this was at the bottom.
There was a knock on the office door and it opened before I had a chance to tell whoever was there to come in.
Danny’s head appeared, his mullet wet and slicked back like he hadn’t long gotten out of the shower.
Although at some point during the afternoon, I could’ve sworn I’d looked out of my window to see them all playing with water pistols and a hose, so maybe he was still drying off from that.
He grinned victoriously when he saw me and slid through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “Found you!”
“I did tell you where I’d be,” I said, closing my laptop, sitting back in my chair, and spinning slowly around to face him.
“Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know where your office was? I’ve never been here before.” He looked around at the space and nodded appraisingly. “It’s kind of boring.”
“It’s an office. They’re not usually that exciting.
Although this one is nicer than some of the others I’ve had.
” It had nice big windows for a start, which let in plenty of natural light, so I wasn’t constantly battling with headaches from crappy artificial lighting.
The furniture was good too, with a solid desk that didn’t feel like it would fall apart if I looked at it wrong and a desk chair that, unusually, offered some kind of spinal support.
There was plenty of space on the walls for pinboards and whiteboards, so we could scribble down ideas and draw terrible diagrams with stick figures.
Overall, for an office, it was a decent space and one I enjoyed working in.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never spent much time in one.” Danny shrugged and took a few steps towards me, trailing his fingers along the edge of Leigh’s desk. “Wasn’t sure you’d still be here to be honest.”
“I’m not supposed to be. I should’ve finished at three.”
“Why are you?”
“Because I got distracted by something.”
He nodded again, but it was more uncertain. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Or, like, I don’t know, someone to go home to? I’m pretty sure half the guys downstairs would tell you they’d get chewed out for being nearly three hours late.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Would they? Or are they simply trying to make excuses for dropping the ball and covering it by blaming someone else?”
“Dunno. Probably the second? I guess… I dunno, I’d be pretty annoyed if I was waiting for someone to come back and they were running late and didn’t tell me.
That’s just good manners. But, like, I think most of the guys would actually tell someone.
They’re not that dickish. So, yeah, maybe they’d deserve it if they didn’t. ”
“Personal responsibility is important,” I said, like I had a fucking leg to stand on.
“I guess. You didn’t answer my question, by the way,” he said as he moved a little closer, leaning on the edge of Adam’s desk, which was the closest to mine.
“No, I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m divorced.”
He winced and shifted slightly. “Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It was a fair question.” I was surprisingly unbothered by it. I wanted him to know I was single, to cancel out any doubt in his mind he might have about getting involved with me. In case that was the hurdle holding him back.
“If it helps, I’m not with anyone either. I’m not divorced, though, just kinda shit at dating.”
“Maybe you’re looking at the wrong people.”
“Maybe. I’m starting to think that.” He licked his lips and glanced down at the floor, and I noticed his hand was gripping the side of the desk so tightly there were patches of white on his knuckles. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why’d you give me a lollipop?”
“Because it was a bribe to make sure you all took part in filming. Sweets usually work.”
“Okay, yeah, they would. What about—”
I smiled and held up a hand, slightly testing the water to see what would happen. “No, you’ve asked a question. Now it’s my turn.”
Danny frowned. “But—”
“You can ask me another once you’ve answered mine.”
“Fine.”
“Why did you really follow me on Instagram? I don’t believe it was about the drinks. That was simply an easy way in.”
He pouted and frowned, folding his arms defensively across his chest. Oh, he really was cute when he threw a strop. I’d have so much fun with him if he did that regularly. “If you didn’t want me to follow you, you could’ve ignored it. You didn’t have to message me.”
“Don’t get defensive. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just curious,” I said. “Would it help if I told you I liked seeing that notification?”
Danny’s chin tilted in a barely perceptible nod.
“I wanted to know… were you flirting with me? In the bar. And in the messages too. And today. ’Cos I have no idea and I’m getting so fucking in my head about it!
” He waved his hands agitatedly, raising his voice as he continued.
“And don’t ask me anything like, ‘Did you want me to be.’ I want you to tell me the truth: were you flirting with me? ”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Obviously not! That’s why I’m fucking asking!”
“Like I told you this morning, you’re cute, Danny.
” I stood up and moved a little closer towards him, noticing that I was a couple of inches taller, although his mullet did add a couple of inches.
He looked up at me with stormy eyes and I hated how much I loved them.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about how pretty they’d look all wet with overstimulated tears.
“Cute, like?”
“Cute like cute,” I said. “Attractive. Sexy. Handsome. All of which you know. I’ve seen the way you behave. You know how good-looking you are. I just don’t think you were expecting someone like me to notice.”
“Like who?”
“A man. And an older one at that.” I sighed and stepped back. “I’m too old for you, Danny.”
“Fuck off, you’re not old.”
I chuckled. “I’m thirty-eight.”
“Okay, you’re a bit old.”
“Thank you. How generous,” I said sarcastically.
“I mean, it’s not bad,” he said quickly. “You’re hot. Er, I mean… shit. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno. I’m not… I’m not supposed to like men?” It was definitely a question and asked with that adorable head tilt. How could I resist?
I couldn’t. That was the fucking problem.
“Aren’t you? Who said that?”
“My dad,” he said, glancing away for a second.
“Guys I’ve played with before. Not really anyone here but…
I don’t know. I always thought I should like girls, and I do, but I don’t think it’s like a want-to-fuck-them way.
Or a date-them way. More like, ‘hang out with them because they’re fun’ way.
Also, they don’t give you shit if you like cocktails or wanna go out dancing. ”
“Fuck your dad,” I said, more sharply than I’d intended. “Sorry. I, er, I fucking hate people like that. My parents were the same.”
“Yeah? How did you deal with it?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t really. We don’t speak anymore. I have other family instead, one I made myself.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It’s not bad. Except when they turn up at your house for a surprise weekend away and drink all your vodka,” I said, smiling as the memory of going back to mine on Saturday night resurfaced.
I’d insisted on making martinis for everyone and something with juice for Shane.
I didn’t even remember what we’d been talking about at that point, only that we’d drunk all my vodka.
Danny chuckled. He’d closed the gap between us and I hadn’t even noticed. I should have stepped away and told him that was enough, but I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to. “Charlie’s kind of like that. Only I’m the one at his.”
“Have you told him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“’Cos I’m still figuring it out. I don’t even know if it’s true yet.”
“What? That you like men?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I mean, I like the guys I see in porn. And I’ve thought about what it might be like. But I don’t know if that’s enough for me. Kinda want to try it and see.”
I raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing across my lips as a warning siren echoed in the back of my mind. “What do you want, Danny?”
“I don’t know but I think I want to kiss you.” He was so close now, allowing me to see all the details of his face as the smell of his body wash enveloped me. It was sweeter than I’d imagined. Like candy floss and coconut. “Yeah, I want that.”
“Demanding, aren’t you?”
“I’m not demanding anything. I just said I wanted to kiss you. Why? Don’t want to kiss me? You said I was hot!”
“Do you ever know when to be quiet?” I asked, stepping forward and pushing him back against Adam’s desk, making something rattle.
Danny flushed slightly, his eyes widening. “Sometimes. When people make me.”
“Interesting. Although I don’t think anyone else does it the way I would.”
“Yeah? What way’s that?”
“It depends.”
Danny rolled his eyes exasperatedly and I almost laughed. Fuck, I’d known there was a brat in there waiting to get out. Danny hadn’t exactly been hiding that side of himself. Unless he didn’t know it existed, which was very possible. “On what? Seriously, why can’t you just fucking tell me shit?”
“Because it will depend on how much I want to ruin you,” I said in a low voice as I put my hand on the side of his neck, not doing anything more than touching the hot skin, letting him know I was there.
“Fuck me,” Danny muttered, mouth falling open slightly.
“I can, if you want. All you have to do is ask. Politely.”
“Kiss me?”
I frowned and let go of his neck, leaving my hand hovering in mid-air. “You don’t sound sure. And I’m not doing anything unless you are.”
“Kiss me,” he said demandingly. “I want you to kiss me.”
“Ask politely.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
“You’re being a dick.”
“You’re the one who came in here and started asking questions.
You’re the one throwing a tantrum instead of saying please.
” I shouldn’t have been riling him up, and I doubted it would end well.
But I wanted to know what happened when I pushed those flashing red buttons I could see, the ones floating obviously in front of him.
“Please,” Danny said. It was clear he didn’t like it, and I debated telling him in future there’d be consequences for that behaviour. But I wasn’t about to throw either of us in at the deep end.
“See, was that so hard?”
“Yes.” He pouted, putting his hand out to touch the front of my chest. “Can I have my kiss now? Please?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t get a chance to move before Danny yanked the front of my shirt and slammed his mouth into mine.