As I clear my throat, she twists around and glares at me in a way I’m not used to. The normal glares she throws my way say, “I hate you, but I’ll let you fuck me. This glare is I’m about to rip your dick off and feed it to you.

She jerks her chin toward my office, and her eyes soften as she speaks. “Your coffee is on your desk, and you have a conference meeting with Darien. Oliver’s lawyer sent over the draft of the contract for American Banking. Troy from the IT department wants to go over some software he thinks will be better for the customers and employees. Mrs. Donna called in sick.”

Her voice cracks like an egg. She eyes the gifts I bought her but doesn’t even acknowledge them and turns back around in her chair.

I take long strides toward her, spin her chair to face me, and shove the gifts in her hands. Sadness colors her face and she gulps loudly. “These are for your ass, so stop staring at me like you’re planning to murder me in my sleep.”

“I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it,” she admits, examining the cupcakes like they have rabies. “Is this your way of apologizing? By buying me my favorite cupcakes and knee-high socks?”

“Yeah. Does that mean you’ll come home and let me fuck you until you’re sore?”

“No. But I’m willing to talk.”

“Then will you come home?”

“It depends on how the talk goes.”

She’s lucky I adore the fuck out of her ass because if she was any other woman, I’d toss her out of my life faster than Speedy Gonzales. And I wouldn’t even care how bad I fucked up. She would be another woman I don’t have to explain myself to. Well, color me shocked and fuck me sideways scissors- style. I’m actually digging Gia. I don’t know when I started to like her in a romantic way, but it snuck up on me like a thief with a knife. Darien was fucking right for once in his life.

This is not good for us. I need to call off the experiment, but I don’t want to.

“Deal.”

And I stand there like a sad fucking puppy waiting for her to spit out what she wants to say to me. Is she waiting on hell to freeze over so the devil can go ice-skating to tell me I’m off the hook?

“So are we going to talk?”