And I even made dinner reservations on the way to my apartment to shower and change my clothes.
Who the fuck even am I?
Apparently, I’m a man completely gone over a curvy little redhead who wears cardigans and threatens children with math worksheets.
And the worst part?
I don't even mind.
Because the best part about last night wasn't the sex.
Okay, don’t get me wrong, the sex is definitely in the top two.
But the best part really came afterward.
When she smiled and closed the distance between us again.
When her hands slid into my hair.
When she looked at me like I was something worth wanting.
Like I wasn't some screwup on administrative leave.
Like I wasn't a guy who solved problems with his fists.
Like I was hers.
That image has been stuck in my head ever since.
Through breakfast.
Through my workout.
Through the longest damn conference call in human history.
And now?
Still there.
Like a permanent fixture in my brain.
Not that I'm complaining.
Okay, maybe I'm complaining a little because the conference call is currently killing my buzz.
“You know he's a motherfucking crook, right?” Noel growls through the speaker.
“What?”
Shit.
I need to pay attention and stop daydreaming about curvy little redheads.
“Earth to Kai, we’re talking about Jonas, for fuck’s sake,” Noel growls.
“Yeah. He’s a crook. And?” I rumble.
“And why the fuck are you poking him with a stick?”