He stuck out his fluorescent tongue and then grinned a toothy, pink smile to demonstrate.
She couldn’t stop the snort that escaped. She pressed her fingers over her mouth, trying not to show any break in her stone wall.
He waved a hand. “No, go ahead. I know. So many jokes that can be made. Don’t let your head explode from not saying one.”
“You should get that checked.”
He gave another encouraging flick of his hand. “I know there’s more.”
“Did Miss Piggy at least buy you a drink before you went down on her?”
He grinned wide.
“Did she taste like bacon?”
He laughed at that one, a warm, open sound that he’d never made in her presence. “I knew there was a sense of humor in there somewhere.” He lifted an eyebrow. “And Miss Piggy bought me a whole meal, which is more than I can say for the last woman I slept with.”
She stiffened at that, and the smile that had slipped out fell away. “Thanks for bringing them by but—”
“You’re busy. Yeah, I’m sure you are. And I got that we’re not supposed to talk about it. But look, here’s the deal. I have a very low tolerance for drama in my life these days. This”—he pointed a finger back and forth between the two of them—“is drama neither of us needs. So consider what happened done. I do. Both of us should’ve known better. We didn’t get along to begin with. A hot night in bed isn’t going to change that.”
She tipped her chin up, trying to maintain her cool composure. “No, it’s not.”
He smiled. “Got you to admit that it was hot.”
“Lane.”
He lifted his hands. “Just messing with you. You make it too easy. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that it was your birthday and that no one knew. That sucks.”
She shrugged, though the move felt tight. “I wasn’t interested in celebrating.”
“Oh, come on. Everyone should celebrate their big twenty-one.”
She straightened the file in front of her, needing to do something with her hands and searching for a way to get him out of her office before she did something embarrassing—like let him see exactly how much this conversation was getting to her. “Don’t mock me, Lane. I’m well aware that we’re in different age brackets. I’d rather not remind myself of the cliché of the older woman taking a younger guy to bed on her birthday.”
He crossed his arms like a bouncer about to eject her from the building and gave her a bored look. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, doc. You didn’t seduce some college student. Well, technically you did, but—”
She stilled. “What?”
He smirked. “I’m taking classes, so technically a student, but I’m thirty. I can’t imagine we’re that far apart in age, and you didn’t take me to bed. That was the other way around. The taking, that is.”
“Lane,” she warned again.
“You’re blushing, McCray.”
She pushed the box of cupcakes to the edge of the desk, ignoring the heat running over her skin, and turned on her terse doctor tone. “Thanks for bringing these by, but I don’t want them. Put them in the break room for the staff. I need to get back to work.”
He glanced down at the box and his affable expression fell away at her brusque dismissal. “So that’s how it’s going to be? I’m just another worker to do your bidding?”
She stared at him, not offering a response.
“Right. Well, save your directives and bring the doughnuts yourself. I’m not your employee. Not right now. And not that night.” He flattened his hands on the edge of her desk, his green eyes calm but holding her gaze without reprieve. “Hear me, Elle. You can’t control me with your money or intimidate me with your position, so stop trying.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He pushed off the desk and straightened. “Yes, you did. It’s your way. But I’m sticking to my no-drama clause and am going to let it go this time. Here, let’s practice treating someone like a normal co-worker. Dr. McCray, I have brought you a treat from your dedicated staff with belated birthday wishes.”
His tone was breezy, the words painfully polite.