“I know how to fucking stand up,” I bite out through the pain.
“Then stand up,” Mack says, his stern tone scratching the right parts of my brain. I feel the heat from his palms against me, burning through my T-shirt.
“Just breathe,” he says softer.
I’m acutely aware of how close he is. My gaze flashes to those pillowy lips. The way they part so slightly. I look up at his amber eyes, his alpine and vetiver scent hitting me like a brick.
He still smells exactly the same. He’s still so fucking hot, too. Hotter, actually.More of a man.
But I don’t have time to stare in awe because the pain is too much. I push myself up, but it’s no use. I hear a crack and then I fall back into the chair and curse.
“Fucking hell,” I complain.
Mack looks at me with judgment, and I hate it. I cover my face with my hands, growling in frustration.
“Alright. Chair exercises it is,” he says, blowing out a sharp breath. “You can start with heel slides. Four reps each heel. You know what those are, right?”
“Fucking obviously,” I growl, trying to work through the pain.
He holds his hands up and steps back.
My fingers curl around the edge of the seat as I try to breathe through the pain. It takes everything I have to push my heel out and slowly push it back. But I do it. It hurts like a bitch and I have every desire to challenge his authority and say those two words I long to say.
Make me.
My phone rings again. “Daddy Issues.”
Mack watches me intently. I shut the phone off and push my heel out. He says nothing as I continue my reps, taking deep breaths between each movement.
“Good job, Alex,” he praises. “Now do it again.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jordan
Friday used to be my favorite day of the week. Even though I love work and being in the city, and dread going home, it’s nice being able to do nothing all weekend. I can hide away in my house and not be bothered by anyone. Maggie works most weekends, and so she doesn’t bother me either. Austen and I used to hang out, and we still do sometimes, but he’s got his own life going on with Savannah and working for his dad. Same as the other guys, who all have their own busy lives.
But as much as I used to love Fridays, I hate them now.
Mondays and Wednesdays, too.
I should tell Brett that I can’t work with Alexfor…reasons, but I keep thinking about his comment. Becoming a manager. Working my way up the ladder. Becomingmore. That’s the only thing that has me sucking it up and working with Alex. Also, maybe I like torturing him a little.
Sure, it sucks he’s in pain. I’ve never had an injury like that, so I can’t imagine how badly it hurts. I don’t hate him so much that I want him to be in pain, but I also don’t like him enough to go out of my way to make sure he’s fine. Giving him shit is fun. Like payback for all the times he’s annoyed the fuck out of me and laughed about it. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and he’s going to be sorry.
And that’s just the icing on the cake, because I don’t even want to think about all the other issues I’m having. Like the memories of those nights with him. The ones I thought I had buried.
For a while, they were gone. Even when I saw him here and there over the years, I was able to shove them away, but being so close to him now, having to touch him, talk to him, fucking smell him? It’s annoying. What’s more annoying is that my dick is not on the same page as me.
Though, when has it ever been?
I grab a large iced coffee and two donuts as a gift to myself to get through the day. Maybe scarfing down the extra sugar and carbs will make me feel better about having to see Alex this afternoon. Or maybe it’ll make me feel shittier.
I dread the afternoon, and therefore my morning goes by faster than ever.
I force myself to eat lunch, even though I don’t want any part of it. Just knowing I have to deal with Alex soon makes me sick. Before leaving the break room, I make myself a coffee and take it with me to my office. Maybe I should start sneaking alcohol in to help me cope.
I scoff as I walk into my room, pissed that I’m thinking of such ridiculous things. Drinking at work just to deal with Alex? It would make more sense to tell Brett I can’t do this.
