Goddammit.
thirty-six
running late, son?
Ryan rushed through the early morning streets of Tucson. He should be sluggish, but he wasn’t. In fact, just the opposite. Ryan DeMarco felt like he could take on the world—fuck, take on his father—and come out on top. Being around Elissa recharged him.
He downed another cup of coffee and took a barely warm shower. His cock kept waking up and missing Elissa. He’d have to remedy that at her earliest convenience. Half-tempted to ask Iz for a ride in—their office was a few blocks away from DPM—Ryan glanced at the clock as he grabbed his bag. He was only a couple minutes behind schedule. Maybe no one would notice.
His luck didn’t hold. Though his father rarely arrived before Ryan, today he pulled in as Ryan was dismounting his bike. Well, fuck. Even though he’d been on time or early every damn day for the past month, his father would have something to say about him arriving five minutes late, though no one else was here yet.
Ryan didn’t need his dad’s bullshit this morning. He pretended not to see his father getting out of his car and hurried inside. He didn’t even bother dropping his bag at his desk and went straight to the break room to hide, hoping his dad would follow his own routine.
No luck there, either. Alessandro DeMarco poked his head into the break room, no glint of good humor to be found on his craggy face.
“There you are. Running late, son?”
“Just a bit.”
“Out late?”
Ryan didn’t know if his father was merely curious or conducting an investigation. He kept his attention on making the coffee while he answered.
“Yes.”
He pulled deep on his childhood experiences. Short, definitive answers were best. It gave his father less leverage to pull more information from him.
“You have responsibilities now, Ryan. You shouldn’t be out with one of your floozies on a work night.”
Big breath in, let it out slowly while counting to three.
Don’t let him hear the sigh, or he’ll read me the riot act. And, for the love of God, don’t tell him to mind his own business.
He couldn’t let the slight to Elissa go, though there was no way in fucking hell he was going to tell his father he was banging the hot accountant.
“I understand your concern, but she’s not a floozy. It was only the once, Dad. I’ll survive.” He switched the coffee pot on.
A grunt greeted his words, and Ryan rolled his eyes but not before ensuring his father couldn’t see him.
“I’ve heard that before, and if I recall, she used you for your money, and when she realized you weren’t getting your inheritance for another ten years, she dropped you like ASU fumbled the ball last season.”
It was true—he’d been used for his money and connections before. Elissa wasn’t like that, not at all.
“This one is different.”
“We’ll see. When do we meet her?”
Never.
“We’ve been on, like, three dates. I’ll let you know.”
“I hope she was worth it,” Alessandro grumbled as he withdrew and walked down the hall to his office.
Ryan wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear, and he wouldn’t have answered his father, anyway. But God yes, Elissa had been worth it. Not just the sex, though that had been beyond fantastic. For a guy who prided himself on his ability with words, they seemed to fail him whenever he thought of Elissa. The night had approached perfection. A quiet meal for two, sharing his life’s work with her, even though he’d only known her for a little while.
While the coffee finished brewing, he shuffled to the front door to unlock it for the day. His cousin waited outside, tapping her stilettos against the sidewalk.
“Sorry, running a couple minutes late.”
