“You have a visitor, Travis.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Uh…” I exhale, trying to catch my breath. “Not now. I’m busy.”
“It’s your lunch, asshole.” I hear Viola’s voice on the other end. Fuck, this can’t be good.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, pulling away from Alyssa.
“What are you doing?” she whines, licking her lips.
“You need to leave.”
“Seriously?” She stands, adjusting her skirt and top. “I cut out early on a budget meeting to come see you, and you kick me out before I’m even done?” She cocks a brow, and I know she’s pissed.
I begin pushing her out the door. “Never come in here again. We meet somewhere else,” I remind her of the rules. “You’ll get me fired.”
She tilts her head, rubbing a hand on my cheek. “Maybe this’ll teach you to stand me up.” She winks, grabbing the door handle and letting herself out.
I sigh in relief, buttoning my suit jacket. I’m about to go meet Viola at the receptionist’s desk, when I see her coming this way.
Oh, fucking hell.
“What part of ‘I’ll be right there’ got lost in translation?” I ask, knowing it’ll piss her off even more.
“Don’t start with me. I brought you your damn lunch.” She throws a brown bag at me.
“Would it kill you to be polite?” I tease, knowing asking Drew would lead to Viola at my office again.
Her eyes graze down my body and land on my groin. “Would it kill you to stop screwing every bimbo you come across?”
I glance down and see the tent I’m sporting.
“It would actually.”
She rolls her eyes and turns back toward reception. “I may or may not have added a little special ingredient in your sandwich. Enjoy the extra saliva,” she calls back over her shoulder.
I smirk. “I always do!”
She flips me the bird and turns for the elevators.
I laugh and shake my head. Fighting with Viola is the best foreplay I’ve had in a long time.
Once I’m seated back at my desk, I open the brown bag and grab the sandwich out of the Ziploc bag. It’s lumpy, and I’m even more hesitant to eat it.
What the hell?
I peel back one side of the sandwich and see she’s crushed up hot Cheetos on top of peanut butter, pickles, and sunflower seeds. It looks just as gross as it sounds.
But fuck it, I’m starving so I take a bite anyway.
Blake storms in promptly at four p.m. and asks if I have everything finished. Somehow, I just managed to complete the review minutes before he came in, so I proudly hand it over to him.
“All done, sir,” I say, giving him a cocky salute.
“Really?” He looks impressed, but I can tell by the way his jaw clenches that he was banking on me failing.
“Yup. It’s not easy having beauty and brains, but someone’s got to do it.”
“You’re full of shit.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Nah, man. It’s all there. Nearly killed myself to do it, but I didn’t want to let you down.”
“Or you wanted to kiss Mr. Crawford’s ass,” I hear him mumble, and I’m starting to sense some regret in his tone. “Okay, well, I’ll let the boss look it over and let you know how it goes.”
“Great.” I interlock my fingers and crack my knuckles. “Does that mean I can take a vacation day tomorrow?”
“Uh, sure.” I hear the hesitation in his voice, but I don’t question it. “I’ll let Mr. Crawford know.”
I begin packing up my stuff, eager to get the hell out of there. “Thanks, man. See you Monday.”
I have five and a half feet of fury waiting to curse me out back home. And this time, I might actually enjoy it.
Once I’m home, I start unbuttoning my shirt and ripping my belt off. I can’t stand being in these clothes any longer than necessary. I don’t see or hear Viola anywhere, although her car is parked in the driveway, so I pull my shirt off and pull my pants down before tossing them on the arm of the couch.
I walk to the kitchen and pull open the fridge to look for a beer. Once I find one, I twist off the cap and slam the door shut again. Just as I take a swig, a girl walks in, who is not Viola, and stops frozen in her tracks.
“Who are you?” I ask, fully aware I’m down to my boxers. Her eyes glass over before finally blinking and looking back up to my eyes. “Did you hear me?”
She swallows. “Yes, sorry. You just scared the shit out of me. Viola said her brother wasn’t home.”
“I’m not her brother.” I take another swig, roaming my eyes down her petite little body. “I’m the roommate, Travis,” I say, taking a step toward her. “You must be a friend of Viola’s?”
Before she can answer, I hear Viola stomping toward us. “Don’t touch him, Ash. You’ll catch an STD.”
Her eyes widen, and I’m pretty sure I see her friend take a tiny step back.
“I’m surprised you even know what an STD is, considering you’re a virgin and all.” I flash a wink at her when her friend isn’t looking.
She huffs. “I’m not a vir—gah, never mind. Fuck off, Travis. And put some damn clothes on.”
“I don’t think your friend minds.” I turn and smile at her. “Do you?”
“Uh…I…” she stammers, and a part of me feels bad I’ve put her in the middle.
“Didn’t think so.” I grin, walking past her toward Viola. “Looks like you’re in the minority, princess.”
I sit on the couch and click on the TV. I hear Viola speaking to her friend as they finish bringing in all of her shit. I glance back and see bags lining the floor.
“You realize you’re only staying here for a couple of weeks, right?” I shout. “No need to nerd up the place with all your Harry Potter books and capes. Wouldn’t impress my guests.”
“You’re an idiot,” she snaps. “And since when did you consider your one-night stands ‘guests’?”
I turn fully, facing her. Her cheeks are flushed, and I know it’s killing her that she has to be here alone with me. “You want to see how well I treat my guests?” I flash a crooked smile, knowing it’ll rile her right up.
“I wouldn’t let my worst enemy near you,” she fires back, narrowing her eyes at me. Fuck, she’s hot when she gets super pissed. All the more reason to push her buttons.
I tsk. “If you could keep them away that is…”
I turn back around just as she tells her friend it’s time to go. She whispers a few curse words, and I know this is going to be a lot more fun than I expected.
I can’t do this.
I can’t go back in there and be alone with him for the next two weeks.
But what other choice do you have? I don’t. I’m not going to stay with my mom or my dad. I wouldn’t go back, even if there was a zombie apocalypse.
Guess I’m just going to have to suffer it out. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be drunk while doing so.