Page 37 of Claimed By the Boss

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Maybe it should. But it doesn’t.”

“It could get really messy really fast,” she warns. “I don’t mean to yuck your yum, but it’s giving a power imbalance. Like how old even is he?”

I glance at her. “He’s older,” I say vaguely.

She shoots me an annoyed look. “No shit, Sherlock. I’m looking for a number.”

“I don’t know exactly,” I say with a sigh. “Maybe mid-forties?”

“So, twice your age,” she says.

“I can do the math, Becca, and it’s not a big deal.”

Becca looks at me for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out how deep into this I already am. I can’t tell if she’s truly worried or just surprised because this is all so far outside my norm. Maybe it’s a little of both.

I sit up a little. “Look, I get it. There’s definitely a big age difference, a power dynamic, and the whole taboo thing. It’s all a lot. I’m not blind.”

“Then why are you pretending none of it matters?”

“Because I can handle it,” I shoot back quickly. “I can keep work separate. I’m not going to throw away my job over one night.”

Becca’s brows draw together. “But what if it’s not just one night?”

I pause.

It’s a question I haven’t let myself ask. It doesn’t feel like one night at all. It feels like the beginning of something truly special. But how can I tell Becca that after I’ve just told her not to worry about me?

“I’ll deal with it if that happens,” I say quietly. “And that’s a big ‘if.’”

“And if it blows up in your face?”

I exhale through my nose and press my fingers to my temple. “Then I’ll clean up the mess and move forward.”

Becca doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then she leans back and pulls the blanket over her legs. “You’re kind of a badass, you know that?”

I glance over and find her smiling. “Thanks,” I say.

“For what?”

“For not judging me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely judging you,” she says with a smirk. “But who among us hasn’t done something crazy?”

“This doesn’t feel crazy,” I answer, refusing to meet her eyes.

“I hope it stays that way.”

Becca stretches, yawns, and nudges me with her foot. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“Probably.”

I push off the cushions and stand, the ache in my thighs a sharp, private reminder of what the night meant. As I move down the hallway, Becca calls out behind me.

“For what it’s worth, I’m always on team Lyra. Just be smart, okay?”

I stop in the doorway to my room and look back. “I’ll try.”

Then I step inside, close the door, and let myself sink into my sheets.