After Hours

One confirmed concussion and several insults was not how I planned to impress my boss.

Decorating his shoes with vomit wasn’t either.

And now he despises me.

With each new dig and glare that passes between us, tension spirals.

It’s lust disguised as hate.

A force neither of us can deny.

We agreed to a night, and he begged for the weekend. But somewhere between right and wrong, all bets were off.

The rules don’t apply when it’s after hours.

It was a good idea until it wasn’t.

Because when the world is watching you fall in love with your boss, you’re in plain view of his enemies.