Page 21 of Hexed, Vexed, & Undersexed

I wouldn’t want to work with someone like Bellamy, either.

I smirk at my mental burn, then frown.

Is it sad that the second I thought of the epic jerk, I pictured him naked?

Don’t answer that.

I sprint inside like my ass is on fire and slam into a familiar chest—thankfully, it’s Preston’s this time andnotBellamy’s. I don’t know how many more encounters I can take with that man before I punch him in his smug face. I take a second to inhale Preston’s cologne and maybe rub my nose against his soft sweater before pulling back. He grins down at me with a knowing look.

Busted.

“Hey, coach!” I chirp in distraction. “What a coincidence. I was just coming to find you.”

“Not a coincidence,” he disagrees.

I nod like an idiot because I’m not really listening as much as I’m envisioning him without clothing.

“Ummm, what?” I finally ask when I realize he’s waiting for a response.

Preston lets out a sexy rumble that makes my ovaries swoon.

Get ahold of yourselves!I reprimand the shameless harlots.

“I said that there are cameras everywhere, that’s how I knew you were here. It’s also why we can’t. . . fool around.”

“I guess I just have to be sneakier when I’m rubbing up against you,” I joke.

Preston gives me an exasperated look and I blow him a kiss, making him wince.

“Okay, what’s up?” I demand.

“I’ll tell you in a bit,” he hedges, making me nervous. “Why are you here so early?”

“Because you told me to make a good impression, remember? Also, because I miss my cat,” I confess, making him chuckle. “Do you think the network will let me take him home? Please, please, please? Or are you going to make me put a pin in it?”

“Erm, what?”

“It’s aBoltreference—your Disney trivia knowledge is lacking.”

“I was distracted by your begging. I know who Bolt is and your cat is no Bolt; he’s bigger and scarier. I’m pretty sure the network would pay you to take him home. The damn thing growled all night, spooking security.”

“He’s just a big kitten!” I defend.

“He tried to bite the man feeding him,” Preston responds dryly.

“Huh, I guess he never heard the proverb before about not biting the hand that feeds you,” I laugh, making Preston roll his eyes.

“Come on, let’s go get your familiar and then head to make-up and hair. One of the perks of being first is they won’t have to rush anything to make you picture perfect—not that you already aren’t.”

“Flattery won’t make me forget that you’re not telling me something!” I scold as he tugs me along.

“Not flattery, just the truth,” he counters, and my insides melt into goop.

Damn man—how does he expect me not to beg him to shove me against the wall and ravage me when he says things like that?

“You’re the only woman I know that frowns when complimented,” Preston notes as we enter a room where Binx is being housed.

“I was frowning at the effect your words had on me,” I admit.