Page 126 of Hate You Up Close

He stares down at me through golden eyes, the most perfect eyes I’ve ever seen.

“No,” I shake my head. “I loved it.”

I love everything about you.

I close my eyes, unable to look at him any longer because I’m terrified.

I’m falling for the most unavailable man in the entire state of Texas.

I’m slowly drowning, yet I have no desire to come up for air. I’ll keep sinking until my feet touch the bottom. Because the crushing weight of Elliot Thompson is better than nothing at all.

TWENTY-FIVE

Roxy

Today is June fifteenth. Elliot’s birthday.

It’s been exactly one month since he took me in his office, which is wild because it feels like it just happened yesterday. We haven’t been able to spend much time together since then…In fact, I’ve hardly seen him. As the person who organizes Elliot’s schedule, I can confirm that he’s barely had a chance to breathe. The past three weeks have gone by in a whirlwind with travel, meetings, and just the busyness of life.

Elliot has been out of town for multiple work trips, only popping into the office for important meetings here and there. Each time he prepares to leave for a new trip, my heart begs for him to stay here. But logically, I know that he can’t. The main reason he was approved to have an assistant is because he travels so much for work. He needs someone to be in the office to handle calls, meetings, and drop-ins while he’s gone.

And even though I want to beg him to take me with him, I have to be here. It’s literally in my job description.

Carry out administrative duties such as phone calls, meetings, and assisting visitors. Be present to manage the office and work independently while management is out for travel.

The only reason I was able to make the San Diego trip was because it was over the weekend, and our office is closed to the public outside of the standard Monday through Friday work hours.

Needless to say, I fucking miss Elliot.

I misshimso much.

He just got back from New York yesterday, so I wasn't sure if he would agree to go out for his birthday. All it took to get him to agree was me stepping into his office while putting on a sad, puppy dog eyes. Before the words were out of my mouth, he said yes.

So here we are, at Retrocade, which is basically an arcade for adults. It has multiple bars, bowling lanes, arcade games, and a full-service restaurant. You can choose to eat inside the restaurant, or a server will deliver your food and drinks to your location depending on where you’re at in the massive building.

I didn’t tell Elliot where we were going until we pulled into the parking lot. I had to keep it a secret because I knew he would scrunch up his nose and think it was lame. Elliot’s idea of fun is drinking, working, or fucking…And tonight, I plan on changing things up a bit. Deep down, I know Elliot has a fun side. I just have to pull it out of him.

“What the hell, Rox?” Elliot dramatically asks as I pull into a parking spot. “You’re taking me toRetrocade? You know I’m turning thirty-six, not thirteen?”

This is just the appetizer, I think to myself. He has no idea what I have planned for him later tonight. He is going to lose his mind. I can hardly wait to see his reaction.

But for now, I’m going to play along and let him think the arcade is our only plan for the evening.

“I’m very aware of how old you are,” I reply, arching a brow. “And that is exactly why we’re here. You’re thirty-six, not eighty-six. You have plenty of years left to sit around and be boring. So tonight, I’m going to kick your ass in bowling, stuff my face with pizza and beer, and win the biggest prize in the arcade.”

A smirk stretches across his face as he folds his arms over his chest.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he shakes his head. “I know how to roll a fucking bowling ball. My parents put me and Everett on a bowling team when we were kids, and I dominated. So prepare to getyourass kicked.”

Elliot was on a bowling team?No fucking way.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I stammer, trying to contain my grin. “You were on an actual bowling team?”

He rolls his eyes.

“It was a bowling league for kids,” he retorts. “And my parents made me do it. I had no choice.”

My heart bursts as I try to picture little Elliot in a bowling uniform.