Lag (The Boys of RDA Book 2)

by MEGAN MATTHEWS

  I pick up my advance to the desk and try to pretend I’m uninterested. “Trey, did you have a good lunch?” I use my shoe to open the bottom desk drawer and drop my purse in before using my foot to close it again.

  Trey doesn’t answer and I look up to see him in the same spot, but his eyes narrow to become more menacing. “Come here.”

  “In the closet?” A hand flies to my mouth and I stick my index finger between my teeth biting on the end of the nail. It’s a nervous habit I thought I'd broken myself of years ago. “No.”

  His eyebrows raise up at my refusal. “Simone. Closet. Now.”

  This time I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him in defiance. The silent struggle goes on between us for two years, or maybe twenty seconds, it’s hard to know when you’re in the moment and Trey Good is staring you down. When I realize he won't budge and one of us needs to be the adult here, I uncross my arms and huff but start the walk to the closet.

  My steps are slow and Trey decides I’ve taken enough time. When his long arms can reach me, he pulls me into the small room and closes the door behind him. I’m pushed and my back lands against the wall before Trey takes both hands and cups my face.

  “What are you do—” my question’s cut off when his lips land on mine in a passionate kiss. My breath catches between his lips and I grab on to both his shoulders keeping him where he is.

  His knee comes between my legs and he leans in closer so our bodies touch. A chest thumps and I have trouble deciding if it’s mine or his. A moment later the small detail doesn’t matter as his tongue coaxes my mouth open with a soft push and he teases the inside until I join him in exploration. It’s a kiss or a claiming, but either way I’m helpless to stop him.

  My head’s still spinning at this change of direction when his hands slip under my pink blouse and begin to travel upward. He lifts his mouth from mine and his first few breaths are ragged. My swollen lips and mind battle each other. One wants him to get back to the kissing and the other demands an explanation.

  My brain wins the struggle. “What the fuck, Trey?”

  His eyes meet mine and his lip lifts up in a half grin. “God, I love it when you swear.” His head lowers the few inches that separate us and he places two small, quick kisses to my tingling lips. As quickly as he was on me, he pushes away from our place by the wall. "Don’t distract me, Simone. We have topics to discuss. Where were you?”

  “Where was I? Where were you?” My arms cross against my chest. The pleasure of the previous moment dwindles but isn’t lost as my heart rate slows. "Oh right you were with Mari in your office…with the door closed.” I don’t know where this sudden ability to be sassy comes from, but I plan to keep it.

  Trey steps closer, his jaw set. “Mari was here three minutes tops. When I tell you I’m taking you to lunch, I’m taking you to lunch."

  My brain honestly can’t grasp what he’s saying. I need more time to process. I don’t believe him and I’m not sure why since the man is honest even when it’s painful.

  When I don’t answer, Trey leans closer again as he lightly strokes one finger from the bottom of my ear down to my collarbone and I shiver at the touch. He steps away from the door and places a few more kisses to my lips.

  “Don’t listen to Mari…” Another two quick kisses. “Don't let her mess up this relationship.”

  “Relationship?” My voice squeaks on the “–ip” part of the word.

  He places a last kiss on the side of my temple this one lingering longer than the last few and opens the door. “Yes, our relationship.” And then he leaves me standing in the dark empty room alone.

  Our relationship?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I’ll set up the doughnuts when they get here in about twenty and then place the lunch order between ten and ten-thirty.” I sum up my morning plan to Finn as we walk into the RDA building together.

  He opens the door for me and I slide past him to drop my purse off at the front desk. My black Gucci heels click on the tile floor as I walk to the small coat closet where Trey and I had our encounter Monday.

  Trey wasn’t here yesterday, off to some meeting elsewhere in town, but I haven’t missed him leaning up against my desk watching my every move as we walked in this morning. I’m pretending he doesn’t affect me. He’s a little more dressed up today in a pair of tan khakis and a light blue long sleeve button down shirt. He hasn’t rolled up the sleeves yet, but it won’t take long. His face is still soft even with his ever trimmed stubble and he doesn’t appear to be upset about my attempt to ignore him. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. By the time I leave the small room, his smirk borders on a fully amused smile.

  His musky, but sweet cologne lingers in the room and it tickles my nose. It makes me want to walk up to him and stick my head in his neck to get a better sniff, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Seriously, I don’t know when I grew such large balls, but I won't question it now. There’s something about the man that turns me on and yet equally pisses me off at the same time.

  Finn disappears in the time it takes me to hang up my coat, and I survey the empty lobby trying to find anything else to distract me before I deal with the tall overbearing presence in the room. There’s nothing. And worst of all, from the small chuckle he makes as he watches my eyes wander the space, he knows it too.

  “Trey.” I give the elephant a name without making actual eye contact.

  To my annoyance he only laughs before he pushes off from the desk. “Finn gave you a ride this morning?”

  His question sounds innocent, but there’s a hint of something stronger beneath it. I just don’t know him well enough to figure it out yet. “Well technically Jake drove, but yes I guess you’d say that.”

  He stalks to my area behind the desk where I’ve taken a seat on my desk chair. “Why?”

  “Why what? They picked me and Aspen up. We took her to work and then came here.” I try for light and casual, but I’m coiled like a spring waiting to see where Trey will take this line of questioning. I have this sinking feeling it’s going to push me right over to irritated. It’s too early in the morning to be annoyed with him already.

  Trey stops his pursuit of me once he reaches my chair and sits on the lower desk surface. “So this is something you plan to do every day? Ride in with Finn,” he clarifies when I don’t answer right away.

  His body has gotten closer as we’ve talked, or well as he’s talked and that cologne I wanted to smell earlier takes over my senses. I’m a little disoriented with him so close and it lessens my reserve of anger.

  “Simone.”

  I open my eyes to Trey’s face inches from mine and lean back fast enough my chair slides an inch or so away. To try and cover up being busted, I smooth out my black pin stripe skirt and pretend nothing is amiss. I definitely wasn’t caught trying to catch a smell of my new boss.

  “Simone. The ride. Finn. Something you plan to do often?” Trey asks and I get the feeling it’s not the first time.

  I force my eyes to meet his and try for the casual indifference I had such a hold on when I walked in. “What?” His head leans to the side and I sigh. “Yes, I guess. I mean if Finn’s okay with it.”

  Finn’s okay with it since he and Aspen practically forced me in the car this morning, but I’m going for casual here. Trey doesn’t respond and the small amount of confidence I'd gained slips away, so I start to ramble.

  “I mean I feel a little bad encroaching on his time with Aspen.”

  “Then you shouldn’t bother the two of them.”

  My lips purse and my forehead furrows. I’m hurt by his words and I’m sure it shows on my face and my quick flinch. Does he think I’m the type of person to mooch off friends? "I don’t know why you’re so upset over this—”

  “I’m not upset,” he’s quick to cut me off. "I’m telling you I’ll give you a ride to work.”

  My mouth drops open a fraction and my eyes narrow at him. “This was you telling me you’ll give me
a ride?”

  A small nod of his head is his only answer. It kind of pisses me off a bit. Here I’m worried Trey thought I was being too needy, but rather he’s jealous and this is his attempt to throw his weight around like a buffoon. Marissa might be on to something with her whole stance on men.

  “How would I know that, Trey? At what point did you use a question to ask me if I even wanted a ride?”

  My words come quickly and his body stiffens with each one as if it’s not until I question him that he realizes how wrong the situation is. I finish and he sticks his foot out to hook it on the underside of my seat and pulls my chair closer to him. If I wasn’t so exasperated, it would be an impressive move.

  “When are you moving into the apartment?”

  What? The new line of questioning catches me off guard. I’m not done being upset about the last stupid thing he did.

  “What apartment?” I’m already living with Aspen. A fact he’s aware of even if he didn’t help me move.

  Trey sighs at me. “The company apartment upstairs. It’s a perk of the job. They’re small so not everyone took us up on the offer. We have a few empty."

  I open my mouth to tell him what Aspen told me about the six-month wait when the front door opens and the morning doughnut order is delivered.

  Trey jumps down from the desk as the two large boxes are placed in front of me. “Don’t forget. Keep all the jelly ones on the left side.” He winks at me and then vanishes behind the office door.

  **

  Three bags stuffed with subs dangle from my hands. Today’s lunch. The inner office door opens from the other side and I step back and peek up from where the bags are cutting the circulation off from my fingers to see Trey stopped to hold the door open.

  “Here, let me help.” He takes two bags from me and my fingers ache as the blood flow returns.

  “Thanks.” Together we walk to the long table on the side wall of the open office space.

  “I’d planned to ask if you wanted to do lunch today since we still haven’t made up for Monday, but it looks like you’re busy.”

  An undignified noise escapes me and then I follow it up with actual words, “Finn left me in charge of food by myself today. I need to pass it all out.”

  He smiles but is quick to cover it up when my frown deepens. “I’ll help. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the doughnut incident this morning."

  Another pft-like noise answers his reminder of the jelly hell from this morning’s snack mix up. I should’ve known there was more to his wink than he let on. His “jelly on the left” comment was an understatement.

  We pile the bags on the table and each take a few individually wrapped subs to begin our walk from desk to desk. Each foil wrapped log has a name handwritten in black marker on the top. I inwardly groan when I recognize the name on the first wrapped package of sweet hell I’ve grabbed.

  “Melvin, I have your lunch.” I smile brightly as I approach the gluten free, vegan, no dairy employee. He doesn’t return the facial expression.

  Not rising from his chair, he eyes the sub in my outstretched hand and presses a finger to the sleeve of his white shirt. “No mayo, extra tomato, and light lettuce? Toasted not oven cooked?” he asks.

  I wave the sub a fraction closer to him hoping the smell will entice him to at least try it. “Yes, and cut into fourths not in half.” I finish the rest of his ridiculous special order I repeated four times over the phone today.

  His eyes narrow. “Are you sure. After what happened this morning…”

  He trails off and my eyes dare him to finish his comment. He doesn’t and it’s to his betterment. If the white shirt, pocket-protector-wearing nerd makes a comment about how one jelly doughnut ended up on the custard and cream side, I'll shove this sub down his throat.

  I know why the previous receptionists haven’t stayed and why Finn has to pay the position so much. Melvin.

  And well, if I’m honest there are at least ten other guys who work in the building just like him. Their list of food requirements would be enough to make even the most broke person question the money. It’s not until you deal with them on a regular basis that you start to get violent. Then the real trouble begins.

  I thrust the sub at him one more time and he reaches to take it. He’s a little too slow, so I move it closer causing him to jerk back like it might bite him. A laugh bubbles up behind me and Melvin collects his food before I turn to see Trey with a hand over his mouth faking a cough. He better hope his sub isn’t in my bag or he will not like the results. My God. Three days and job has made me vicious.

  “Why don’t you let me take care of the rest of them and you make sure the front desk is still bolted to the ground.” Trey reaches out to take the two remaining subs in my hands.

  Any other time I’d tell him to relax I have it under control, but if every employee plans to mention my criminal jelly doughnut catastrophe, I’ll end up in jail. It was one freaking jelly doughnut, people. ONE. This is not DEFCON five.

  “Thanks.” I smile and pass on the food to Trey’s waiting hands. If anyone gives him crap, he’ll talk them around in circles and no one will remember what they were complaining about. It’s his special gift that’s tripped me up more than once.

  I’m back at the desk in under thirty seconds, but it takes me three minutes to realize in my haste to get all the food restrictions correct I didn’t order any lunch for myself. It’s possible I have a candy bar in my purse. I try to never leave the house without chocolate of some kind. Before I open the bottom desk drawer, the door to the office opens and Trey steps out.

  “Were you forced to defend my honor over the doughnut again or is Melvin the only one experiencing PTSD over it?”

  Trey laughs at my bad joke. “Actually, I told them all you were my girlfriend and after that everyone seemed to clam up.”

  “You did what?” He told people I’m his girlfriend? That… it's… it’s wrong that’s what it is. Even if I was his girlfriend… which I’m not, but even if I was it’s not cool to tell people we work with. He must be kidding.

  “Hey, it worked.” He moves his hand toward the door, possibly in an attempt to showcase no one has run through to grill me about their order.

  Great. Now I’m worried it’s a real possibility. He circles to the back of my desk and slides up to sit on the surface again. I’m glad the job doesn't require much paperwork because mine would have Trey’s butt imprints all over it. Although it would be a nice tight print. In fact, maybe I should lay down some papers for next time.

  “What are you thinking?” I look up to see Trey staring at me intently.

  “Nothing.” I’m able to answer him without looking to his butt. I deserve purse chocolate.

  Trey lays a foil cylinder on the desk in front of me. Where the sandwich comes from, I’m not sure. Maybe he had it in his other hand. Thoughts of butt prints had me so distracted I even forgot about Melvin for a few minutes.

  I’m pretty sure if I explained to a Judge that Melvin spent ten minutes schooling me on how jelly stays to the left, he’d grant me a restraining order. Part of my salary package has to include hazard pay.

  Trey begins to unwrap the sandwich. “I didn’t see your name in there so I thought we could share.”

  “This is your sub?” I look at the lightly toasted top piece and my stomach growls.

  He doesn’t notice or is smart enough not to mention how I’ve become a lion. “Yes, but I figure since I’m taking you to dinner tonight, we can split it to hold us over.”

  For a moment my heart melts. For real it melts, a puddle right on the floor under my chair, but then I’m still pissy over Melvin and question him.

  “What’s on it?” I can’t help it. I get cranky when I'm hungry and have to deal with assholes.

  “Stuffed squid, anchovies, mayo, lettuce, and pickles.”

  The sub doesn’t look appetizing any longer. I look at the side of it and worry I see a tentacle squirming on the end. “Um, no thanks.”

>   Trey laughs. “I’m kidding, Simone. It’s turkey.” When I still don't make a move, “I swear, turkey, mayo, lettuce, tomato, and pickles. It’s safe. Do you remember ordering a squid sandwich?”

  I don’t and I think I’d remember something like that, but his logic annoys me even as I reach out and pick up the half closest to me. “Okay, but if I eat a tentacle I'm never talking to you again.” My first bite is tentative, but when all I taste is turkey and mayo I smile up at him. “Thanks.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The large lobby clock counts down the seconds and I chart each one as the second hand ticks its way around the circle. Eleven minutes and twenty-eight seconds until the work day ends. Eleven minutes and twenty-six seconds until I skip out those doors happy to have survived this Melvin filled day.

  I wonder how many people quit because of Melvin? Why does Finn keep him? Ten minutes and fifty-six seconds. Aspen’s man comes off as sweet and laid back. Maybe he has a soft spot for Manic Melvin? Ten minutes and fifty-one seconds. Maybe Menacing Melvin has an important job? Like if they created bombs, he’d be the guy with the second launch key. Would anyone trust Melvin with the second key? I wouldn’t.

  At ten minutes and forty-seven seconds, there’s movement to my left and my eyes automatically track it. There’s nothing on the desk except a few pens and the pop-up calendar. Weird. I hope a spider or some other creepy crawling hasn't tried to make my desk his new home.

  Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds. A pen rolls off the desk top and lands on the floor. Unexplainably my heart rate picks up and I whip my head to the right. Nothing. Then the fruit basket still sitting on top of the desk ledge jumps. It definitely moves. I swear it moved.

  I’ve forgotten what time is on the clock as my stomach tightens with the movement. My body already knows what this is, but my mind refuses to admit it. I look out the front doors. Maybe I expect to see a building across the road crumble or flocks of people running by. I don’t find either. The streets are empty and the building in front stands intact, but I do catch the doors as they jerk a small amount. Shit.