He was a different person with the laugh. I stared at him, open mouthed, wide eyed.
His brows came together. “What's wrong?”
“You laughed. You didn't bark at me,” I word vomited.
He ran a hand over his jaw, concern and guilt crossing his face. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Look, I shouldn't have said any of that, but I've gotten five hours a sleep the past three nights. You gave me no warning that we would start early, so I still had two weeks left at my other job. When I'm tired, I get word vomit. Terrible, ugly, often embarrassing word vomit.” I stood up, fifty shades of red. “I should go. Hopefully, I'll hear back from my advisor soon.”
“No.” He stood and shook his head at me. “You won't transfer. You'll stay here.”
I sat back down, trying to gage my next move. His chair squeaked with his weight, and he sighed.
“This is awkward. Did my advisor call you? Did you complain about me, so I can't go to another team?” I asked.
“No. No one called. You don't need to transfer. You're doing great work here, and everyone I've talked to has said great things.” He tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting for me to meet his eyes. I took my time, not sure why my heart was beating fast or why I was secretly glad he was saying this. When I met his gaze, his eyes were softer? Kinder? I had no idea. “As far as this being awkward, I do need to apologize.”
I waited, picking at imaginary fuzz on my new shirt.
“Grace.”
Holy balls.
The way he said my name was different. Tender. No. He was still an asshole.
I glanced up at him through my lashes, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he fidgeted with a pen on the top of his desk. I tilted my head, letting him know I was listening, and waited.
“I can be a dick,” he said, his tone tight and raspy.
I nodded, a little too aggressively. He bit back a grin and continued. “I have some anger issues; none that have anything to do with you. That's not an excuse, but it is what it is.”
“That was your apology?” I stood, feeling ballsy and angry. That was not an apology at all. Oh, sorry I'm an asshole. K, thanks, bye. Nope. Unacceptable. “That's bullshit.”
He jerked his head back. His eyes widened, and he did that open mouth, close mouth thing. I shook my head. “Look, Anderson, we don't have to be friendly. You don't have to like me. Honestly, I don't like you. But, you run a hell of a program here, and I want to learn. I'll be here, tomorrow ready to work, but if I hear back from my advisor, I will see what other options, if any, there are.”
And then, I exited—because I was feeling like a boss ass bitch.
Chapter Three
Despite my numerous complaints about being so tired, I couldn’t think straight, my two roommates dragged me to a local coffee shop situated in the heart of downtown nightlife. I adjusted my dress to cover more of my thighs and yawned for the tenth time.
“We shouldn’t have forced you, huh?” Fritz reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “You look wiped, Grace.”
“I am.” I rubbed my make-up free eyes with my palms and frowned. “I appreciate your intent to get me to socialize, but I need to head back home. You two go out, make terrible decisions, and tell me about them tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?” Gilly asked with a slight whine to her voice. “It’s good to distract you from your workaholic lifestyle.”
“Again, appreciate your thoughts, but I need to sleep for twenty-four hours.” I stood and exited the green velvet booth. Fritz followed me. “No, you stay. I know you were excited to go out. I’ll take an Uber home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” I smiled at the man who chose to be my brother. “Go. I’ll catch up in the morning.”
He frowned, but I didn’t give him or Gilly a chance to change my mind. I exited the coffee shop and pulled up the app just as a familiar deep voice caught my attention.
Anderson.
He laughed with a guy I hadn’t seen before.
I could not move my gaze away from him. The joy on his face was new to me. Heat spread through my body.
No. I shook my head. I blamed my lack of sleep on my delirious thoughts and headed the opposite direction. The less contact, the better. My lack of filter and sleep would not bode well to meet my asshole boss who gave half-ass apologies.
“Grace.”
Shit. I stopped walking and waited. Maybe it was my imagination.
Footfalls approached, and his familiar cologne teased my nostrils. Nothing could have prepared me for the curiosity and kindness on his face. “Hey.”
Hey?
“Uh, hi.” I crossed my arms over my stomach, suddenly aware how much skin I showed. His gaze briefly dropped to my legs before returning to my face, and I hated how it sent a shiver of awareness through me.
“Where are you headed? I’ll walk with you.”
“Uh, that’s okay.” I gulped. His face was serious as hell, his eyes wide and unblinking. He had the strong, silent, and scary look down pat. “I’m heading back.”
“I'll walk you home then.”
“I can take an Uber. Don’t worry.” I waved my hand and almost flinched at my sore muscles. The app said at least a twenty-minute wait, and that wouldn’t do.
“It's my fault you’re working two shifts. The least I can do is make sure you get home.”
“Unnecessary, but I won’t stop you.” My feet and my back ached, making my twenty-four years feel like fifty.
“Where is your place from here?” He caught up with me in no time thanks to his long, long legs. They were clad in jeans that had to be personally made for him. Damn his strong, sexy body. And, to top it off, he wore a loose baseball tee. I was a sucker for baseball tees.
“It's a fifteen-minute walk.”
“And you were going to do this alone?” His tone changed to the one I was used to. “Are you kidding? Don’t be an idiot.”
“No need to be a dick about it,” I snapped. “I can take care of myself. I have for most of my life.”
He grunted instead of responding. Fine by me. I was in no mood to talk. So, I kept walking as fast as I could in my stupid heels. I admitted I was clumsy, but karma wanted to laugh at me again by having a branch stick out from the sidewalk. I hit it, losing my balance and flailing like an inflatable tube man at a car dealership. Then I fell. To my knees. In a dress. Next to Asshole Anderson.
“Aw hell.” My knees were scraped, and my body hurt even more.
Not my knee. Not again. Not now.
“Are you okay?” He bent lower, his hands going to my ankle. His large hands almost covered my entire foot. “Shit, Grace.”
He rubbed his hand over my ankle then all the way up to my knee. The rational part of me knew he was checking to see if I’d broken anything. That was his job. He was good at it. The irrational part of me enjoyed how freaking large his hands were and how they warmed my skin. He gripped my knee, and I winced, pulling my leg closer to my body. “Right here? Is that where it hurts?”