Page 94 of Release Me

Did I send mixed signals? Yeah, probably. But I didn’t expect her to kiss me. She’s hard to read, but I can tell she isn’t the kind of girl to kiss random men. She’s also not the kind who will slide her number into a guy’s pocket and hike up her dress for him later that night. She’s older than me—I’m not sure by how much but definitely a few years. And she was engaged, which means she’s the settle-down type.

She’s also the one woman who will one hundred percent cost me this job if Belinda makes good on her threats, and I believe she will. As reluctant as I may have been to accept it, now that it’s mine, the idea of failing bothers me. So, the last thing I need to do is start something up with Sloane.

Or any woman, for that matter.

I needfewerwomen in my life, not more.

On a positive note, I haven’t been this hard for a woman since … well, Abbi. I also haven’t kissed a woman on the mouth since Abbi. I run my tongue along my lips now, still tasting the coconut oil of Sloane’s lip balm. She smelled incredible too, a tropical scent that made my pulse spike. She has no idea how difficult it was for me to hit the brakes.

But I’m not helping her so I can fuck her. I’m not even helping her because it solves the problem of what to do about those signs.

Whyam I so intent on helping the crazy rooster commune lady?

I guess because it’s the right thing to do; I know that in my gut. Plus, she’s aggravating Henry, and that doesn’t bode well for her.

A knock sounds on the door.

“What?” My annoyance bleeds through my voice.

“Sir … um … Ronan?” Archie calls out. “Belinda’s asking about you. Should I tell her you’re in your office?—”

“No.” The single word comes out too harsh. I also don’tneedthatwoman coming in here while I have a raging hard-on. I temper my tone. “Tell her I’ll find her in ten minutes. I need to make an important call.”

“Got it.” The sound of his hurried footfalls fade.

I briefly consider dealing with my issue the old-fashioned way, but there aren’t any blinds on the windows, so I do the only thing I can think of to kill all lewd thoughts.

I call my mother.

The Sea Witchparking lot is busy when I pull in, on my way to the hotel. I’m already annoyed that I’m working on a Saturday, especially when I was in my office until ten last night, playing a game of “read all these reports and pretend we know what the fuck they mean.” Then I came home to a house full of strangers and music blaring. Connor is already living his best life.

I briefly consider skipping this stop, but leaving things with Sloane the way we did has pricked my conscience all night. I embarrassed her, maybe even hurt her. I need to make it right so I can stop dwelling on it.

“Fuck me.” I take in the customer line that snakes around the shelves of merchandise and bags of coffee. At six to seven bucks a pour, Sloane’s got quite the racket going on here. I’m impressed. I’m also going to be late for the morning managers’ meeting if I wait.

The same girl with short, black hair from yesterday is behind the till, her black Sea Witch T-shirt stretched across her chest. She smiles wide as she chats up the customers, as if she landed her dream job and this is it.

In complete contrast, a brunette scrambles behind her to make orders, spilling milk and dropping a spoon with a clatter. Her deer-caught-in-headlights eyes say she’s new here and struggling to keep up.

There’s no sign of Sloane, but the door between the two halves of the building is open, so I slip through it and into the rentals side.

Rustling sounds in the back office.

“Hello?” I call out and cross my fingers that King Kong doesn’t appear. I’m in no mood to deal with his crusty ass this early.

“We’re not open yet,” a woman with a southern twang answers. “If you come back”—a blond rounds the corner and stops dead when she sees me—“at eleven, we can help you then.” Her lips part in a wide grin as she smooths her hand through a lion’s mane of golden hair.

I recognize her. She was at the job fair with Sloane. “Is your boss around?”

“Sloane? No. She’s visiting Gigi.” She says this as if I personally know this Gigi woman.

“Do you know when she’ll be in?”

“Not sure. CanIhelp you with something?” she asks, adjusting her stance so her Sea Witch T-shirt stretches tight across tits that are almost too big for her little body. This one is a wet-dream sorority girl, through and through. Connor would be salivating. “No, I really needed to talk to Sloane.” To say what, exactly, I’m not sure yet.

I’m sorry I didn’t fuck you on my desk yesterday.

I’m not allowed to touch you, boss’s orders.