27. Lorelei

27

LORELEI

Unknown: My hand hurts.

I 've been staring at the same message for the last five minutes, trying to get my head around it.

It's obvious who it is. I don't need to double-check the number that I haven't bothered to store in my personal cell.

Did I think he'd reach out after the way we left things earlier? Yeah, I guess I did.

Did I expect him to send something like that, and to my personal cell, no less? No, I really didn't.

What the hell am I meant to send back?

I've typed out a few responses, all of which I've second-guessed and deleted almost immediately.

Thankfully, I haven't heard anything from Matt. However, I can't help but think that that might be worse.

He could be at the station right now, reporting Kian for assault.

I cringe at the thought.

CFO of Callahan Enterprises arrested for the assault of his assistant's ex-boyfriend…

That is not the kind of headline news I really want to wake up to.

In the moment, I was horrified at what I was witnessing, but now, a few hours after the event, I can't help feeling a little smug.

Potential criminal record or not, Matt is currently nursing one hell of a swollen face, and when he wakes up in the morning, I have every hope that he'll have an ugly bruise that matches his ugly morals.

Unable to come up with something more eloquent, I tap out one single word and finally hit send.

Lori: Good.

It shows as read immediately and my heart lurches, but he doesn't begin typing.

Taking a moment to save his contact, I wait patiently for what he might respond with.

I wait for so long that my cell goes to sleep, and when it goes off again, it startles me.

Lifting it in a rush, I don't bother reading it before opening the notification.

My eyes almost bug out of my head when I find a dick pic staring back at me.

Admittedly, it's a very nice dick pic and can only come from a man who sends them often and knows all his best angles.

I don't need to look up at the name of the person who sent me this, I know the appendage well enough, and I'm so fucking relieved that it doesn't belong to my boss.

Or am I…

I'm still staring at it, wondering how Kian's might look in comparison, when my cell buzzes again.

Boss: He deserved it. I just hope it hurts worse than my hand.

Lori: Baby. Anyone would think you hadn't thrown a punch before.

I smirk, trying to imagine his childhood and education compared to mine. Pretty sure half of his middle school didn't burn down because some assholes decided that setting off fireworks in multiple classrooms at once was a good idea, or that the police had to attend at least once a week to pull students off each other when the teachers failed to deal with the brawling.

Even the best students learned how to protect themselves very quickly in that place. It's one reason why I don't really need to worry about Wilder and Hendrix. What they might lack in motherly love and support, they make up for in street wisdom.

That school might not teach the standard lessons, but every student definitely leaves with some kind of education.

I know from Tate that all three Callahan brothers went to the same boarding school and spent their spare time clay pigeon shooting and learning to play sports like polo and golf.

It's two different worlds, and every time I think about it, I feel like I belong here less and less.

Boss: I grew up with an older and younger brother. Trust me, I know how to fight. I was always the one in trouble for it, too.

Lori: Is that meant to make me feel sorry for you?

Boss: Not at all. I can punch harder than both of them combined; your sympathy should be with them.

Lori: I once broke a girl's nose.

The second I hit send, I regret it.

Boss: Mud wrestling can be brutal. How did your bikinis fare?

Laughter bursts out of me.

Lori: There was no mud involved. Ironically, she kissed my boyfriend at the time. She had it coming.

Boss: You have questionable taste in men, Temptress.

Seeing his nickname for me typed out on my screen has butterflies erupting in my stomach.

One word should not cause such a visceral reaction. But it does.

Lori: Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Sherlock.

Boss: Things can only get better, right?

I think of the dick pic sitting in my messages. That's looking pretty good right now.

The temptation to blow Kian off in favor of Ryder is strong. He would know exactly how to make me forget about the drama of the day.

And why shouldn't I? It's not like Kian didn't spend the afternoon getting his rocks off.

I deserve a little stress relief too, don't I?

But just as I'm figuring out how to wish him a good night, he sends another message.

Boss: My brothers were waiting to rip me a new one when I got home.

Lori: Did that hurt more or less than your hand?

Boss: You concerned about my ass, Temptress?

Lori: Naturally. I have no interest in going out tomorrow to buy you a special pillow for your delicate behind.

Boss: I think you're safe.

Lori: So what did they say?

Boss: King is pissed about the publicity that will come from this. Kieran is just amused. Wants to know what's so special about my new assistant that I'd risk broken bones AND take her to his game.

Lori: We're all wondering the same…

Boss: Are you digging for compliments, Miss Tempest?

My cheeks heat because, yeah, I guess I am a little.

Seeing that woman standing in the doorway to his office earlier was a knock to my confidence, I can admit that to myself.

I can also admit that the man she was there to see shouldn't be the one to build it back up again, but here we are.

Acid floods my stomach the second I think about her. Fuck, she really was beautiful, and totally Kian's type.

I don't know why I care, but I do.

Lori: No, just wondering why you've yet to send me running out of the building crying.

Boss: Because you don't take any of my shit.

I smirk, the jealousy ebbing away.

She might have it all in the looks department, but does she have anything else about her?

Could she stand up against the mighty Kian Callahan and not end up crying?

Something tells me no, and I'm more than happy to run with that thought.

Lori: I'm glad you've noticed, Sir *smirky emoji*

Boss: Trust me, it's impossible not to.

I sigh, lowering my cell to my stomach. I don't know why him appreciating my strength means so much to me, but it does.

When I don't reply, he obviously gets bored of being ignored and sends another.

Boss: What are you doing?

Lori: Practicing my mud wrestling. Championships are coming up…

Boss: Give me the date and time. I'm there.

My light laughter fills the room as my blood heats.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I imagine the insanity that would be a mud wrestling championship, or more so, what having his eyes on my bikini-clad body might feel like.

Fire.

Red-hot, burning fire.

Lori: I'm reigning champ, don't you know?

Boss: Can't say it surprises me. Your opponents don't stand a chance.

Lori: What are you doing?

I'm expecting something equally stupid to come back, so I'm more than surprised at his response.

Boss: Lying in bed, wishing I'd thrown a few more punches into that prick's face.

I can't help but agree. Only…he hasn't finished, because he continues typing.

Boss: Wishing you'd let me follow you up to your apartment.

"Oh, Jesus."

There was a very good reason why I didn't want him to follow me earlier, and the heat that's coursing through my veins is exactly it.

Lori: You're more than capable of icing your own fist. And anyway, I don't have any peas in my freezer.

Boss: I was more worried about you than my hand.

My chest tightens and my heart rate increases.

Lori: No need. As you so helpfully pointed out, I have a habit of picking the men who hurt me. Just another day, just another asshole.

Fuck. The truth hurts more than I was expecting.

Boss: That's not the point.

Boss: Are you okay?

Tears burn the backs of my eyes and make my nose itch.

I don't want his sympathy or his concern.

I don't…

Lori: Yes.

That one-word response taunts me, and I quickly find myself following it up with another message.

Lori: Thank you.

I manage to stop myself from telling him that no one has ever stood up for me like he did today. That is definitely an overshare that doesn't need to happen.

Boss: You're welcome. Maybe let me vet the next one before you fall head over heels, yeah?

Lori: That won't be necessary. I won't be falling for anyone anytime soon.

Lori: Good night, sir. See you in the morning.

I tell myself to turn my cell off and put him out of my mind, but before I can convince myself to do it, he replies.

Boss: That's good. It'll give my hand time to recover. Good luck with your training. If you need any advice, make sure you bring photos. I'll willingly check over your form.

Lori: See you in the morning, Boss.

A fter that last message, I was good and put my cell on airplane mode. I want to say that I rolled over and went straight to sleep, but that would be a lie.

With Kian's actions and messages, and Ryder's dick pic circling around in my head, it was well into the early hours of the morning by the time I drifted off. When my alarm started up this morning, my eyes refused to open, and my body ached with exhaustion.

At least it's Friday.

And if I thought things were already bad, the second I step out of the elevator on the top floor of Callahan Enterprises with a large iced latte in hand, I find none other than Kian Callahan perched on the edge of my desk with his hands folded across his chest.

I'm late. I know I am. The line in the coffee shop was beyond a joke. Apparently, I'm not the only one in the city who needs a pick-me-up this morning.

He looks between my drink and my eyes with an expectant expression on his face.

"Where's mine?" he demands.

I smirk. He's so predictable.

"Well," I start as I walk around him and behind my desk without reacting to his presence.

Melissa isn't in yet, which is almost a shame, because she will miss this.

"I figured you might want something, but I wasn't sure what you might fancy this morning. And then as I was standing there, I had a lightbulb moment." His brows pinch, but I keep my expression blank as I wrap my fingers around the cool bottle in my tote.

My lips twitch with amusement as I pull out a bottle of superfood juice that looks about as disgusting as the homemade one Kingston forces Tate to drink.

Kian stares at it, his eyes darkening with frustration.

"Where is my coffee, Lorelei?"

"So, I got you this. It's really good for you." I lift it up to read the label, but it's ripped from my hand before I get a chance.

"I punched that asshole for you, and this is the thanks I get?" he scoffs, slamming the bottle down on my desk.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware I needed to repay you for that little stunt. As you're a free man here, I'm assuming he didn't press charges."

Kian's jaw ticks with irritation.

"Cancel all my meetings today," he demands as he pushes from my desk and starts to walk away. "My office, two minutes. Do not be late again."