جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 110

** Trey **My girlfriend is hot.Grant follows my eyes as they track Simone across the room. Her bright pink skirt's short enough to give me a view of the long legs I hope to have wrapped around me later tonight. Of course the shoes with straps wrapping around her ankles will need to stay on."Those legs go on forever. You better not mess it up with her."I turn and slug Grant in the shoulder for his comment, and he sways with the force. A hand comes up to rub the spot and he shoots me a dirty look."What the fuck was that for?"Like he has to ask. "Don't look at Simone."He raises both hands in a surrender gesture. "Okay, okay. Point taken." Grant rubs the spot on his shoulder one last time and then turns and walks to where Simone's set up food on a table.Simone comes to stand beside me and I snake a hand out to catch her around the middle and pull her closer. She looks up and smiles at me. Her lips stretch across her face and cause her bright blue eyes to squint like

The wind sweeps up the street and blows my hair around behind me. I contemplate putting it up in a ponytail, but I want to look nice for this first date. A guy shouldn't see me in sweats with my hair pulled back until at least date five. If he has potential, maybe date ten.Hair whips around my face again and I reach back with both hands to tame it, holding on to the ends. It's cold in San Francisco and, while I'll never admit this to Aspen, it might be time to upgrade my winter jacket from the thick black fleece I have on today. I'd rather not walk around ready to go on an Artic expedition like Pen, but a little more warmth wouldn't hurt. I'm a southern California girl, even if I've been here almost five years now.I jump a few times and stomp my feet in a half attempt to warm them up. If my date isn't here in five minutes, I'll leave the sidewalk to wait for him inside. In order to make it here on time, I left right from work and my thin black pants offer little protection agains

Grey walls. Grey carpet. Grey desk top. Everywhere I look in my office there's grey. Well it's not so much an office as a cubical. Okay fine, it's a cubical. Why are cubical farms so gloomy? If they force employees to work on Saturdays, the least they could do is add a little color. It's depressing.The single highlight of my day thus far came from panicky texts from Aspen over Finn's talk of marriage. My bestie's so far gone for her gamer boyfriend I can't figure out why she fights it so hard. If I had a loyal and loving guy like Finn wrapped around my finger, I'd do whatever it took to keep him there forever. If my past taught me anything it's to grab on to a good one and never take him for granted."Marissa, do you have last month's figures for the Cline account?" Scott, another marketing assistant questions from his cubical three down and one over from mine.I stand with the forms and turn in his direction. "Yeah, they're right here. I'm done if you need them."The sheets a

I grunt at him but try to follow his quick directions. It's as helpful as the nurse while she adjusted the crutches."Have you never had crutches before?" This question annoys me more than the first and I visualize hitting him in the head with one. But I worry I'd fall over and hurt myself more."No. I'm normally a coordinated person. I've never needed them before.""Let me help." He slides into the spot next to me and takes each crutch while wrapping an arm around my waist.I want to complain, but I'm missing a leg to stand on. Literally. As much as I hate to admit it, I need this man's help.We make it to the elevator faster than I ever could have on my own, and Ryland uses the bottom of a crutch to open the elevator door. As we wait for the ride to start, he readjusts his arm moving it further down causing him to lean over me.He grips tighter and puts the crutches at an angle to better carry us both. "My God you're short."He's so full of compliments. "I'm average. Yo

My mouth falls open at his playful and bossy tone, but it doesn't mess with his smile. The man is unperturbed, which frustrates me. Rather than remind him I'm maimed, I move on to the next pressing topic."What's that?" I point to the table in question.He cocks an eyebrow in my direction and raises a hand like he's about to check for a temperature, but I bat it away. "A coffee table.""I realize it's a coffee table, Ryland. Where did it come from?""First, call me Ry. My mother's the only person who calls me Ryland. Second, I bought the table this morning.""You bought a table this morning?" My wrapped foot rests on the floor, the throbbing pressure increasing by the minute. It must be the reason I'm hearing his answers wrong.He slides the table a few inches closer. "Yeah, I stopped by to wake you up this morning and noticed you didn't have one. I picked it up down the road and they delivered it an hour later."My eyes rise to the ceiling as I work through everything he