Page 35 of Misadventures of a Biker

“Basically, he shoved me out of his way and stomped out to the car.”

“That’s it?” she snapped back. “No nothing?”

“Nope.”

“What about Saturday?”

“I spent the weekend watching rom-coms on Netflix and crying. He took his shirt off, by the way. That was interesting.”

“Wait. What? Took his shirt off? When?”

“Before he pinned me to the wall.”

“Just ripped off his shirt and smashed you to the wall?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Holy crap,” she gasped. “Then, nothing?”

“He’s so sexy it makes me sick,” I said. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Spend every waking hour wanting him. I don’t know what it is about him, but I want him so bad it hurts.”

She waved her hand in the direction of his desk. “Go tell him you’ve got an ugly twat. Maybe he’ll reconsider.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It was kind of funny.” She brushed the wrinkles from her dress. “What did he look like without his shirt on?”

“What do you think?” I asked. “He looked like someone ought to be chiseling a statue of his likeness and placing it in Naples Park.”

“I want this to work,” she said.

“You want what to work?”

“This. You. Him. This.”

I glared. “You little turd. This is your fault. You basically set me up.”

She cowered in her seat, but it was only an act. “I may have planted a seed or two,” she admitted. “A few in his head, a few in yours.”

I shook my head in disgust. “Well, your little plan didn’t work.”

“He’s perfect for you,” she said. “He’s a sexual deviant, and so are you. He’s loyal, and so are you. He’s alpha, and you’re subservient.”

“I’m not subservient,” I snapped. “I can’t believe you said that.”

She stood, walked around the corner of my desk, and got on my computer. After a few seconds of typing, she gestured to the screen. “Read it.”

sub·ser·vi·ent | səb-ˈsər-vē-ənt – adjective – willing and eager to obey another unquestioningly – “She was subservient to her partner.”

“Maybe a little bit,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s never going to work.”

“A little bit.” She laughed. “You define the term.”

“I do not.”