"It's not your fault."
"Yeah, it is." He mutters a curse, inhaling a sharp breath. "You tried to warn me from the beginning that this wasn't okay, but I was a fucking asshole. I thought once thephotos were out, it'd be fine. Since I couldn't get rid of the photos, I thought that I could use the situation to get you to give me a chance, and everything would work out."
"You tried to stop the photos from being released?" I ask
"Yeah, but I'm an idiot."
"You're—"
He quirks a brow, cutting me off.
"Okay, maybe you're a little bit of an idiot," I mutter, which makes him laugh.
His laugh turns into a groan. "I'm so fucking mad right now."
"I poured beer on them."
"I saw." His jaw flexes again. "You shouldn't have been in that situation."
"I wanted to go to the game."
"And now, you want to leave me."
"I…"
He tips my head back, forcing me to look at him again. "You aren't leaving me, baby."
"I almost got fired today, Austin," I whisper, my heart aching. "And you know what? As mad as I am about it, my boss is right. It's not okay that this is putting patient privacy at risk. They don't deserve to be splashed across the news just because I am. They don't deserve to wade through photographers just to be seen for whatever illness brought them to the clinic. That isn't fair to them."
He stares at me for a long moment and then exhales a breath. "Quit your job."
I blink at him, pretty sure he's lost it. "Did you take a hit to the head tonight?"
"No. I took a hit to the cock days ago. And you know what? I think it's the first time in my goddamn life that I've been thinking straight."
"Uh, not if you think I should quit my job," I say, trying to wriggle out of his arms. I might as well be trying to move a brick wall, though. He isn't budging. "I can't just quit my job to date you. Dating you isn't a career choice, Austin. That's called prostitution. And I'm pretty sure it's illegal."
"Pretty sure? How are you only pretty sure that prostitution is illegal?" He quirks a brow, smirking at me.
"I mean, escorts are a gray area I don't understand."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend professionally, baby. You're an office manager with a degree in business management. In case you forgot, I run a soup kitchen. So come manage it for me. I'll pay you double what you're making now."
"You…I…" I splutter, gaping at him. "You did hit your head tonight, didn't you?"
"No," he growls, backing me up against the wall. "I told you already. You hit my cock last week, and now I'm seeing shit clearly."
"I beg to differ."
"No, you don't. You just don't want to admit that I'm a fucking genius."
"You said psycho wrong," I say sweetly.
He stares at me for a long moment and then moves all at once, hauling me up over his shoulders so fast I get dizzy.
"Austin! What the hell? Let me go!"
His hand comes down on my ass in a hard smack. "I will," he mutters, already storming down the hall. "Just as soon as you're naked and more agreeable."
