“I…” I licked my lips. “I’m…”
“You are not too busy. Don’t even pretend with me.”
Ugh. “That’s not it.”
“Is this an autonomy flex, or an influencer thing about how you’re too important to bother reading your own emails?” His mocking tone seared through me.
“No!”
The words felt like bullets, piercing through my chest. The air felt hot and charged in my lungs.
“Forget it. I’m not moving an inch until you give me my phone back.”
“Very well.”
With that, he lowered the waistband of his gray sweatpants. I caught a glimpse of the sharp V bracketing his abs. The golden, smooth skin of him, and the trail of hair rolling down from his belly button to…
“Jesus!” I looked away, coughing to conceal my embarrassment. “What are you doing?”
“Making you run away. Or, alternatively, setting the ground for a nice, cushioned settlement agreement after the sexual harassment lawsuit I’m going to file against you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. He was playing chicken with me. And winning. How was I going to survive him for six months?
You’re not. You’re going to have to make him quit.
“Well?” he asked. With my eyes closed, I could feel his warm breath fanning the side of my neck. Shivers trailed down my spine. “Your move, Brat.”
He saw this as a chess game, as nothing but entertainment. This was mylife.
“I’ll read the damn thing,” I heard myself say. I opened my eyes. Fortunately, his pants were still on. Unfortunately, so was a condescending smirk.
“If you come across any big, intimidating words, let me know.”
“Fuck you, Random.” The words came out shaky, and I hated myself for it.
“It’s Ransom,” he corrected.
“Random suits you better.”
He paused, scanning me through hooded, ominous eyes that reminded me he was a man who fought—protected?—for a living. My lower lip trembled. He looked like a heartless prince, distant and untouchable.
Whatever he saw in my eyes made him realize I was too easy a prey. His locked jaw loosened, and his expression turned from murderous to done-with-my-shit.
“I’m hopping in the shower. When I get out, you better be ready to sign, having understood the contract.” He flung a towel over his shoulder and exited the room.
I went to my bedroom and perched on my mattress, my fingers clutching the wad of papers. My eyes roamed the pages.
The words all bled together, as if the paper were wet. I tried to take it one word at a time, but I was too upset to concentrate. After a few minutes of trying, I stood up and opened the balcony doors to try to get enough air.
You can do it. You’ve done this before. All you need to do is focus.
By the time a knock sounded on my door, I’d only made it to the second paragraph. Something about personal liability.
Ransom waltzed inside, wearing a dashing Prada suit and shiny loafers, looking like he was attending the Oscars. He buttoned his cufflinks. I leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb of the balcony, pretending not to want to hurl myself over.
“Well?”
“Boring and uninspiring. One out of five stars. Would not recommend.”