Chapter 10 #3
“Dude,” he says, not even trying to hide his grin. “That’s rough.”
“I didn’t order it,” I repeat through gritted teeth, shoving the package into my desk drawer.
“Of course you didn’t,” Eve says, sarcastically, not looking up from her screen. “That would be embarrassing.”
Twenty minutes later, another delivery arrives.
“Caleb Reynolds?” This guy is even louder than the first. “Got your DHT Blocking Supplements here! And a complimentary issue of Hair Transplant Quarterly!”
I want to disappear through the floor. Every head in the office swivels toward me again, and this time Flora actually giggles.
“This is a mistake,” I say weakly, accepting the magazine like it’s contaminated.
“No mistake here!” the delivery guy chirps. “Says you’re a premium subscriber! Enjoy learning about the latest in follicle restoration technology!”
Eve finally looks up from her computer, her expression the picture of innocent concern. “Wow, Caleb. Hair Transplant Quarterly? That’s... comprehensive. I admire your commitment to research.”
“I didn’t subscribe to this!”
“Right,” she says with a patronizing nod. “I’m sure it just... appeared. Like magic. Along with all those helpful newsletters and products.” She gestures vaguely at my desk. “The hair loss fairy must really have it out for you.”
That’s when it hits me. The timing. The convenience. The way Eve keeps making comments with barely concealed amusement.
I look over at her, and she’s watching me with those dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Having a rough day?” Eve asks sweetly, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.
That’s it. That’s fucking it.
I slam the magazine down on my desk, sending another cascade of blonde hair flying—hair that I’m now one hundred percent certain isn’t mine—and march over to her desk.
“We need to talk,” I growl. “Now.”
She blinks innocently, but there’s something calculating in her expression. “About what?”
“Roof. Now.”
“I’m busy—”
I lean down, bracing my hands on either side of her chair, caging her in.
“Princess,” I say quietly, my voice low enough that only she can hear, “either you come with me willingly, or I throw you over my shoulder again. And this time, I won’t stop at one spanking.”
Her cheeks flush, but her eyes flash with defiance. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, the space between us filled with tension. Finally, she saves her work and stands up, smoothing down her fitted pants.
“Fine,” she says icily, “but this better be quick.”
I follow her to the stairwell, pieces clicking into place with every step.
The hair that only appears at work. The perfectly timed newsletter subscriptions.
The public deliveries designed for maximum embarrassment.
I would have figured it out earlier if I hadn’t been so distracted with the surveillance camera situation Ethan’s had me wrapped up in.
The roof is empty and cold, the February wind whipping around us as we step outside. Eve hugs her arms around herself, and I have to fight the urge to offer her my jacket. Again.
“Alright,” she says, turning to face me with her chin tilted up defiantly. “What’s so important that you had to drag me up here to freeze to death?”
“Cut the innocent act, Lopez.” I step closer, and she doesn’t back down. “I know it was you.”
“Me?” She presses her hand to her chest, pretending to look shocked, the movement drawing my attention to the way her blouse clings to her curves. “Little old me? What could I possibly have done?”
“The hair. The packages. The fucking newsletters about baldness.”
She scoffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I take another step toward her, close enough now that I can see the way her pulse flutters at the base of her throat. “Oh, you don’t, do you?”
“Nope.” The word comes out breathless, but her eyes never waver from mine. She’s pissed that I figured it out, but she’s not about to admit defeat.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” I move closer still, backing her toward the wall. She could sidestep me easily, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lets me crowd her space, her breathing growing shallow.
“I don’t think I’m clever,” she says, her back hitting the wall beside the door. “I know I am.”
The wind whips her hair across her face, and without thinking, I reach up to brush it away. My fingers graze her cheek, and she inhales sharply, her eyes darkening.
“I hope you had fun watching me squirm,” I murmur, bracing one hand against the wall beside her head. She’s trapped now, but she doesn’t look scared. She looks triumphant.
“Oh, I did.” Her voice is husky. “I was hoping you’d have a complete breakdown. Such a pity you held it together.”
“Where’d you get the hair from, Eve?” I lean in closer, close enough that our bodies are almost touching. I can feel the heat radiating off her despite the cold air.
She holds my gaze for a few seconds, her tongue darting out to wet her lips—a gesture that makes my jeans uncomfortably tight.
“Costume shop around the corner. Very realistic wigs.” She leans forward, balancing herself on her toes, until her lips are almost brushing my ear. “I told you I’d make you pay.”
Her breath against my skin sends electricity shooting down my spine. “You’re enjoying this,” I accuse, my voice rougher than I intended.
“Immensely. Seeing you panic for the past few days has been the highlight of my daily routine.” She doesn’t try to deny it, instead giving me a sneer. “Problem?”
“You gave the courier specific instructions to announce what they were delivering.”
“Best twenty bucks I ever spent.” She’s practically purring with satisfaction, and the sound goes straight to my cock. “Did you like the Hair Transplant Quarterly? I picked that one out especially for you.”
I brace my other hand against the wall. “You’re a vindictive little thing, aren’t you?”
“I prefer ‘creative.’” Her eyes flash with challenge. “Besides, you started this with your juvenile princess wrapping paper. I just finished it with style.”
“This isn’t finished,” I warn, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
“No?” She tilts her head, studying me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to solve. “What are you going to do about it? More glittery revenge? Please. I’m not some college girl you can intimidate with your pretty face and trust fund attitude.”
“My pretty face?” I can’t help but smirk.
Her cheeks flush, but her voice remains steady. “Don’t let it go to your head. I’ve seen prettier.”
“Liar.”
The challenge hangs between us, loaded with implications neither of us are willing to acknowledge. The wind picks up. I can see goosebumps rising on her arms, can feel the way her body trembles.
“You’re cold,” I observe, my gaze dropping to where her nipples are visible through the thin fabric of her blouse.
“I’m fine,” she says, but her voice wavers slightly.
“You’re shivering.” I shift closer, and she presses herself harder against the wall, trying to maintain distance between us.
“Get away from me,” she hisses.
“Make me.”
For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us thick with animosity and unspoken desire. Then she laughs scornfully.
“In your dreams, Wilder,” she says, shoving hard against my chest. I step back, and she ducks around me, heading for the door.
“This isn’t over,” I call after her, my heart pounding.
She pauses at the door, looking back over her shoulder with a sneer. “I’m counting on it, baldy.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me standing alone on the roof with my pulse racing and the absolute certainty that Eve Lopez is going to drive me completely insane.