“I guess there’s no tiptoeing around the subject matter,” he begins as I hold my breath, praying I don’t have to talk about the fact that I’m an Edwards. “April has informed me you’re staying in my house.”
How stupid of me to forget. My shoulders relax, grateful my family is not the subject at hand.
“Yes, she kindly offered. I promise it’s not for long,” I ramble, not taking a breath. “I should be gone soon once I find a new place to stay. Hopefully close to the office.”
Mr. Cash, Hunter, shit, he hasn’t even told me what I should call him.
“April is welcome to have friends stay.”
“And your wife,” I continue, with a nervous energy. “She’s lovely, Mr. Cash.”
The second I call him formally, his expression stiffens. Unsure why, my eyes drift to his hand resting on the table. He clenches a fist, almost as if my calling him Mr. Cash angers him.
“My wife,” he strains, gritting his teeth. “Is anything but lovely.”
Oh great, now what have I stepped into? Surely, my big fat mouth could have been kept shut. I think of ways to segue out of it, again, learning much-needed lessons from my father.
“She’s been nothing but accommodating and lovely to me,” I tell him, trying to steer the conversation. “With all due respect, Mr. Cash, I have all these minutes I need to email out. Is there anything else you need me for?”
His eyes meet mine, our gaze locking in uncomfortable silence. I can’t deny it, he is incredibly sexy. He has that whole chiseled jawline going for him which means his face appears very masculine. As for his hair, it’s a mousy brown color and slicked back, styled like he’s modeling for an Armani campaign.
I’ve always been turned off by the older man thing, given that Cole is my age, but thirty ain’t so bad. Maturity is all of a sudden sexy, and I find myself squeezing my thighs shut again at the thought.
God, what fucked up rabbit hole are you falling into?
“That’s all I need ….” He trails off, lowering his gaze to the table, but then slowly raises his eyes to meet mine again. “For now … Alexandra.”
I smile politely, then grab my things with shaky hands as he watches me. Quickly, I rise from the chair, careful not to lose my balance from whatever the hell is happening to my nervous system.
Exiting the room, I close the door behind me and let out a huge breath which comes out a rasp.
As long as things stay professional inside the office, I can get through whatever he throws at me.
But as for staying in his home … I beg myself to save every penny to get out of there as fast as possible.
FIFTEEN
“Eric, is there a point to this story?”
The young man serves our drinks, prompting Eric to smile politely while pretending he’s not checking the bartender out. There’s an awkward silence when he leans over, but thankfully he’s quick to pull back and continue to offer his services before leaving us to serve other customers.
“Did you smell him?” Eric asks, fanning himself.
“Yeah, he smelt nice. And?”
Eric cocks his head, staring at me with judgment. “I have so much to teach you still.”
I shake my head in disagreement. “The last time you taught me something, it stuck in the wrong way. Never again.”
“Oh?” Eric grins proudly. “Do tell.”
“No chance. Besides, I told you I only have an hour for lunch.”
In typical Eric fashion, he pouts when he doesn’t get his way, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Though, also like a child, he soon forgets, then brings up something else with excitement.
“Spill all the juice about Hunter Cash,” he begs with way too much enthusiasm. “I need to know everything.”
Eric isn’t the right person to discuss my brief encounter with Hunter Cash. Nor is Ava, despite her abusing me over text messages. What am I supposed to say, anyway? There was a stupid moment when I shook his hand, and something weird happened. How that night, when I was attempting to fall asleep, my brain wandered into uncharted territory, thinking about what it felt like to have an older man touch me.