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Screwed

Page 13

   


“Emery? Earth to Emery?”
I realize I’ve been ogling him like a horny schoolgirl and blurt out the first thing I can think of. “Wow, you’re up late.”
“So are you,” he replies, holding up a glass of amber alcohol on the rocks. He’s smirking. God damn him, he’s mocking me. The last thing the world needed was for me to feed his ego. “I was just having a nightcap. Want to join me?”
Definitely. Wait, no. Bad girl. No boner for you. “Thanks for offering, but I’ve had a really long day. I should get to bed soon . . .”
“All alone?”
I snort, though I’m smiling despite myself. “Yes, alone. You know, for sleeping? Some people have work in the morning.” Although I may be willing to lose a little more sleep for some quality time with a battery-powered friend, if only to get myself under control. “I just came up here to thank you for the menus. That was really sweet of you.”
He gives a nod, blue eyes crinkling in a boyish grin that shows his dimples. And this smile isn’t just a show to dazzle my panties off, though it threatens to do just that. It seems genuine—as if he’s pleased that he pleased me.
“No problem. What with your crazy hours, I figured you wouldn’t have much time to cook.” He pauses for dramatic effect. Or could he be hesitating? “Would you be interested in going to one of those places sometime? You know, in person. Without any plastic sporks.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . . real plates and silverware?” I sigh in mock wistfulness. “Sounds too rich for my blood.”
“Come on. You’re going to be busting serious ass. Even if you can’t take an early night during the week, you deserve some fun on the weekend.”
I consider for a minute. I’ll usually work weekends too, but Hayden’s offer actually sounds pretty tempting. After my first week of a new job, it may be nice to unwind with someone to talk to. I can brag about all the Real Lawyer Stuff that I’d never expected to do as a lowly intern. I can vent about Creepy Larry. If he was this bad on the first day, I can only imagine what kind of bullshit he’ll pull in the future.
Finally I nod. Stealing an hour or two for dinner won’t hurt much. “Okay, you win. I’ll take a break with you. How about five thirty on Saturday, at . . . the burger place I’m totally blanking on?”
“You mean Sunflower Grill? Sure thing. As long as I don’t have to say that name ever again, and they sell something that tastes like meat.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. The caveman never shuts up about his meat.” In more ways than one.
His smirk should be disgusting, but it just draws my attention to his soft lips. “You don’t like my meat?”
“Good night,” I call out, already walking away with every ounce of nonchalance I can muster.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find him still watching me, and a warm tingle rushes down my spine. I go back downstairs to my condo, take a very quick, very cold shower, and fall asleep with a stupid smile on my face.
For the rest of that week, in the moments between pounding out work and taking my short lunch breaks with Trina, I find myself thinking fondly of Hayden. I’m looking forward to our non-date more than I probably should.
Chapter Seven
Hayden
This place is an absolute zoo, which is no surprise. Beth’s finishing up in the kitchen while I set the table. My niece and nephew are in the living room, arguing about which show to watch on the iPad, and my brother-in-law, David, is due home any minute.
Beth carries a platter of baked chicken into the dining room and sets it in the center of the table. “You want a beer or something?”
“Only if you join me.”
She gives me a sarcastic smirk. “Anything for you.”
When she returns, she wrangles both kids into their booster seats and sets their plates in front of them. Then she hands me a bottle of beer and a little plate of those crab roll-up things she usually only makes for special occasions or holidays.
“You’re my favorite sister,” I say, stuffing one into my mouth.
“Love you too.” She smiles.
“This almost makes up for you sending me to an advanced yoga class.” I look at her and frown.
She smiles, and the twinkle in her eye tells me that was quite intentional on her part. Brat .
When she encourages me to sit, I take in the table filled with steaming bowls of veggies, potatoes, and a platter of chicken. She rocks at this mom thing.
“Should we wait for David?” I ask before popping another of the roll-ups into my mouth.
She shakes her head. “He’ll be home any minute. He said to start without him.”
We’re digging into our food, making small talk about what’s new with the kids, when David comes strolling in moments later.
He leans down to give his wife and children each a kiss before greeting me. “How’ve you been, Hayden?”
“Good,” I say. “Come on, food’s getting cold.”
For being a guy who’s fucking my sister, he’s actually pretty cool. They’ve been married seven years and are good together. He joins us, sitting at the head of the table. If it weren’t for their generosity, I’d eat takeout most nights of the week. Instead, I come here.
After dinner, David and the kids play in the driveway while Beth and I tackle the dishes. I used to try to encourage her to go out and play, let me handle the work, until I realized that she’d been playing with them all day and actually just wanted some adult conversation. Now I happily supply that.