Page 12

Clyde

Fuck, we ’ve already lost half an hour, I think irritably as I glance at the fancy clock hanging above the bar area nearby.

I toss a glance in Jesse’s direction as he takes his time finishing up the last of his damn breakfast, wondering what hour he actually meant when he suggested it.

Unless Doc got the info wrong, I think with a grunt as I drop an arm on the table and begin to drum my fingers.

“Is everything okay?” Calla asks in a hushed tone as she leans toward me.

“Huh? Yeah, fine,” I lie with a forced chuckle. “Just waiting for His Majesty there to finish up.”

“Fuck off, Clyde,” he says good-naturedly through a mouthful of food.

I scowl.

How he thinks that planting an idea like building a snowman with Calla, then making me wait was a good idea, I still haven’t figured out.

But now that I have the chance…

“Hey, do you think we can go back upstairs after breakfast? I’m still feeling a little zonked,” I say to Calla with a warm smile.

She arches an eyebrow, but shrugs and nods in agreement. “I guess so. I’m not exactly on Swiss time either yet,” she admits with a sheepish smile.

“Then you should have said something earlier,” Billy pipes up. “Breakfast could have waited.”

I give him a withering stare, and he shrinks down in his seat a little. I get that he’s the one that’s always looking out for her emotionally, but being Mr. Feelings right now has the potential to fuck up our plans for the rest of the morning.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he picks up his fork and gently starts to tap it against his plate.

Doc rolls his eyes and glances at him. “Don’t apologize to him just because you’re not a sociopath like he is.”

I laugh and shake my head.

I have feelings.

Most of them, anyway.

The important ones.

The ones that want to fuck Calla every chance I get, and especially when I can get her alone.

“ Nah, ” I intercede, taking the opportunity to present myself as the proverbial good guy, “I’m the one that’s sorry. I think I slept wrong or something. I need to lie down for a bit, is all.”

All eyes at the table turn to look at me curiously.

I get it.

No one is used to me apologizing for anything, nor are they used to me backing down.

And in a way, I’ m not.

I’m just playing along so that when we get upstairs, Calla doesn’t push us all away so she can nurture Billy’s feelings back to normal.

Then that’ll fuck up everything, just because I chose the wrong thing to be impatient about.

“Thanks,” Billy finally says with a nod, breaking the curious silence.

I grin at him as I reach over for one of Calla’s hands, doing my best not to sigh at the soft feeling of her skin.

Sooner rather than later, she’s going to be slick with sweat, radiating heat from desire, and made up too, according to one of the best ideas that Jesse has ever had.

***

When breakfast is finally over, and Jesse is done acting like an absolute twat and taking his time, we all stand up after Calla signs her name on the receipt.

The rest of them start walking with purpose toward the restaurant doors, but I’m a gentleman—I wait patiently for her, following her as she walks quickly to catch up to them.

I grind my teeth together as her hips sway from side to side, her succulent ass teasing me as she goes.

By the time we exit the restaurant, the rest of the guys are over by the elevator banks, talking animatedly like a bunch of kids.

I roll my eyes as I take Calla’s hand and go over to wait with them.

After a few moments, the elevator bell dings and the doors slide open. We wait for some people to file out before we shuffle in, and I press the close doors button, holding it down to ensure that no one else will be able to get in with us.

“Hey, Calla? Before we all hit the hay for a few hours, wanna help us with something?” Jesse asks her cheerfully.

She stifles a yawn, placing her free hand gently over her mouth and nods. “Of course. What do you need help with?”

“Nothing too big. Extra credit project for art class is all,” he advises with a wave.

Calla chuckles as she rests her head on my shoulder. I give Jesse an amused look. Art class is all he can come up with?

He smirks as he crosses his arms and rests his back against the elevator wall, Doc and Billy quietly snickering behind us.

When the elevator finally hums to a gentle stop on our floor, I place a hand on the side of the bank, allowing her to walk out first.

Then they fall into step beside me as we follow her. Our new art class project—our snowman ready to be built.

While it’s not the most depraved thing that we can come up with to do with or to her, it’s the most creative thing so far.

Calla uses her keycard to unlock the door and we walk in behind her.

As she tosses the card on the large desk nearby, she turns to look at us with a smile on her face. I watch her tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“What can I do to help?” she asks.

“Just be yourself,” Clyde begins with a smirk. “And whatever you do… don’t fucking move from that spot. Not until we tell you to.”