Chapter 13 Serena #2
“O-kay. Got it. Got it.” She types. “How would you describe your ideal partner physically? Type of lifestyle?”
Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I see that his stare hasn’t shifted an inch, still locked on me as he speaks.
“Someone who appreciates sweets as much as I do. I like a girl around … hmm … five-foot-four. Someone with a little spice and flair. Red hair,” he says matter-of-factly, no quiver or hesitancy in his voice.
“Blue eyes.” He chuckles. “Likes to pout. Has far too big of an attitude for her size—”
“Okay, enough!” I push away from my desk and stand, turning to face them in one fluid motion. “No. No. No! I am not a game to be played, Bates.”
Miles’s and Julia’s heads whip my way, their eyes widened with surprise. I never raise my voice, certainly never before my employees.
Bates runs his hand through his soft, fluffy hair, rising to his feet and addressing Ker. “Add that to my ideal person—that they hate games.” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “A shame, but I can accept it.”
Ignoring their shock, I continue to berate the stupid, annoying, ridiculously attractive hockey player in front of me. “We have a right to decline our services to anyone, and right now, I’m upholding that rule against you.”
Bates bunches his cream sweater over his heart in his fist, his bottom lip jutting out. His broad shoulders lean back, lifting his sweater above the waist of his jeans.
My eyes betray me, dropping to the inch of his exposed skin, firm and thick. And, oh dear God, he has a happy trail.
Stop.
You dumb bitch, stop looking!
But by the time my eyes drift back up to his, the most arrogant, annoying smile is stretched across his face.
“Side note, Ker Bear: I’d also like it noted that my person has to have these eyes that can just cut through you with a single glare. Beautiful, bright blue.”
“Get out.” I cross my arms and stomp my foot, my chest suddenly tight with emotion that I don’t quite understand. “Get out, or I’ll call my dad.”
“Your dad?” He laughs. “Ooh, scary. What’s he going to do? Cut a minute off my playing time? We both know he needs me on the ice. Try again.”
Striding toward him, I grab his phone off Ker’s desk and smack it into his chest, up to my limit in his bullshit. “Goodbye. If you come back, I’ll call the police.”
He snickers, glancing down at me with amusement. “I think I like it when you threaten me …” He trails off, shock filling his gaze like he was about to say something he shouldn’t.
Taking his sudden silence as a win, I smile. “Ugh, silent is just the way I like you.”
His tongue swipes across his teeth, a dimple forming in his cheek. “I guess I’ll fill the application out online.” He checks his phone. “Besides, I have to get to practice.”
Flashing the smoothest wink I’ve ever seen, he takes his phone from my hand and strolls out of the office, like this was all just a tiny blip in his morning.
My shoulders are heaving as the door swings shut. Suddenly, I become reminded that I have three onlookers who witnessed all of that.
“Umm,” Kerrigan starts, her voice high-pitched and accusatory—I know that because I’ve heard that exact sound a thousand times over the course of our friendship
“Shut it.” I brush her aside, just for a moment so I can cool off. “I’ll be right back.”
Following Bates out into the parking lot, I’m happy to find that he and his oversize pickup are already long gone.
The biggest sigh leaves me, and my shoulders relax ever so slightly. “Fuck!”
Being around him is like lying in a fire ant’s nest. My body is burning, his every word causing a thousand tingles on my body. He’s wiggling beneath my skin, invading my being, and I’m exhausted from the short interaction.
My phone chimes in my pocket, pulling me from my thoughts.
My Masked Valentine: Tell me he didn’t say anything rude to you or, God forbid, touch you.
A smile tugs at my lips. My exhale carries weight from my chest and neck, and I feel myself calm even more.
He’s not worth your time, trust me.
My Masked Valentine: Do you know him? Should I be worried?
HA! Absolutely no need to worry. I know him by association but we’re not friends or anything. He’s an arrogant jerk with an ego that can barely fit through the door. I’m hoping he never comes back.
My Masked Valentine: Oh really? He sounds horrible. Should I make sure he truly never comes back?
I’d rather you focus your time on me
My Masked Valentine: So you don’t have any attraction or feelings for him?
My brows furrow. Why the hell is he droning on about Bates right now?
My thumbs type out a message, but I quickly delete it before opening my camera roll and sending him a sexy photo that I took last night.
Let’s stop talking about him. I just want to talk about you and me
My Masked Valentine: I could do that for eternity
So romantic
My Masked Valentine: For you, I try
My heart skips a beat.
How’s your day going?
My Masked Valentine: Better now that I’m talking to you and you’re happily talking to me. I miss you
His wording makes me read the sentence twice, but I brush off my confusion, focusing on the second message. I bite down on my smile, swaying side to side as the cold starts to nip at my skin.
Come see me
My Masked Valentine: When?
My core pulses as an idea pops into my mind. Maybe we could cross another item off of the fantasy bucket list.
Surprise me ;)
My Masked Valentine: Yeah?
When I least expect it. Surprise me … scare me … fuck me
My Masked Valentine: On one condition
What is it?
I chew on my cheek, nervous for what he’s going to say. But thankfully, I don’t have to wait long for his response.
My Masked Valentine: Go back inside so you don’t freeze to death please
Would you still love me if I were a popsicle?
I hit Send before the fear tears through me. I said love. Oh God … like an idiot. Obviously, he doesn’t love me … right?
This isn’t love?
Right?
He doesn’t respond right away, and it only raises my anxiety tenfold. I can’t believe I sent that without rereading it or thinking about my message for longer than a second.
I suck in a breath, holding it as his message comes through.
My Masked Valentine: I’d be devoted to you no matter what you are or who you become. I’m yours, My Little Cupid, and you’re mine. No matter what …