I can hear their laughter as I make my way across the lobby to the reception, where I explain who I’m meeting on the rooftop. After the receptionist checks my ID, I’m given a key to access the roof and head up in the elevator.
I’m alone until it reaches the third floor where a guy strides inside. He’s dressed entirely in black, including a hoodie that’s pulled up, along with a pair of aviators. He looks like he might have amonster hangover, and he ignores me entirely, talking loudly on his phone.
Which is fine with me.
At least it’s fine until he cancels my selection on the keypad and hits the button for the lobby.
Seriously, he changes the direction of the elevator so we’re no longer heading up and instead we’re going straight back to where I started.
What. The. Fuck?
“Yeah, bud, quit griping at me. I’ll drop your food off before I get my dick wet,” he says into the phone.
Charming. I’m now staring at him, eyes boring into the side of his face at the sheer fucking cheek of him switching the direction of the elevator.
“Probably, anyway,” he continues. “If I find a good distraction, I’ll let one of the guys know where to pick your food up from.”
He turns to the side to focus his attention on me, raising an eyebrow above the top of his shades. Somehow, despite not being able to see his eyes, I can feel that he’s checking me out. My blouse becomes a thousand times itchier and I feel my cheeks heat.
Pulling down his hood, he reveals hair that’s a dark brown and looks disheveled, like he, or someone else, has been busy messing it up.
The way he looks, combined with the way he’s looking at me, is giving me serious fuckboy vibes.
“Eyes to yourself, buddy,” I growl.
I don’t know why I’ve suddenly become a preschool teacher. Next, I’ll be asking him to put his hands on his head to show he’s not fidgeting. He grins and continues to look right at me as the elevator crawls, impossibly slowly, back to the ground floor.
“Just some mouthy blonde,” he says into the phone. “All right, man. I’ll see you in a few.”
He ends the call as we reach the lobby, his focus still entirely on me even as the doors open.
“I guess this is where I leave you, Ms. Mouth. Unless you feel like joining me?”
I snort at his sheer fucking audacity. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Seriously, I’m interested in seeing what’s underneath that blouse. High necks really do it for me, you know? You look all prim and proper.”
“Yeah.” I shake my head. “No. I’m not interested, buddy.”
His grin slips and I can bet he’s blinking in disbelief behind the shades. Something tells me this guy doesn’t get turned down very often. Not if the absolute confidence of his movements is anything to go by. I know his type. He’s someone who expects the world to fall at his feet.
And he can go get fucked. Just not by me.
“You’re seriously turning me down? What, are you married? Mated?”
“I’m seriously turning you down,” I reply. “As tempting as your offer is. You’re rude as hell. You know that, right?”
I don’t wait for him to respond, instead letting out the tiniest puff of my magic. A hint of determination to get things done.
I see the exact moment it hits. His smile is nonexistent, and he frowns slightly, rubbing his chest and looking from me to the lobby and back again.
“I need to go,” he says.
“All right then.”
He shakes his head, like he’s trying to dislodge something. “I really need to go. Cal needs his dinner.”
He strides out without a backward glance. A man on a mission.
