Page 19 of Drive Me Wild
He grins at my use of an Aussie phrase. “Glad you can still joke around with me.”
“Just be glad I found your dick to be more than adequate, or the jokes wouldn’t be merciful.”
The words come straight from my G-spot, up my throat, and out of my mouth before I can stop them.Abort. Mayday. Code red. Phone a friend.
“More than adequate, eh?” He turns his chair to face me, triumph gleaming in his eyes. “Tell me more.”
I nervously giggle because apparently, I’m a teenage girl with a crush on her friend and not a woman who knows she can’t blur the lines of an important friendship, no matter how more-than-adequate his dick is.“Aren’t you supposed to be at a press conference?”
“Nope.” He drums his hands against the table. “Got pushed back an hour thanks to Blakey Blake.”
“What’d he do?” Blake gets extra grumpy when he has back-to-back interviews and, honestly, I don’t blame him. How many times can reporters ask the same question but disguise it as something new? And ask about Ella in an interview? You’re pretty much blackballed from ever asking him anything ever again. “Cuss someone out? Flip a table? Throw a water bottle at a reporter?”
“Goldy had a phone call with a lawyer that Blake wanted to be there for.” Theo scratches the five o’clock shadow that perpetually marks his jaw. “Very nicely asked if we could move some things around.”
I nod in silent understanding. Ella’s testifying in the case against Conner Brixton—the man who assaulted her a year and a half ago—and Blake’s been her rock through the pre-trial hearings and never-ending calls with her lawyer. “Makes sense.”
Theo smiles, a row of white teeth showing. “What’re you working on?”
Before I can answer, he turns my computer so he can see my screen better.Okay, nosy.It’s a good thing I wasn’t stalking his Instagram or anything embarrassing like that.
“Why are you emailing James Avery?” His voice is unusually distant. “Do you work with him closely?”
I take my laptop back to see what he’s looking at. It’s an email I received earlier in the morning. I don’t know if it can be considered an email, considering the message is written in the subject line:Please send report of website traffic from last quarter.
“He sent that to the entire marketing team,” I point out. “It’s not like we’re having a one-on-one email chain about something top-secret.”
“Have you met him?” he asks, a sudden note of contempt creeping into his voice.
“First Grand Prix,” I respond. “He came to a marketing meeting and introduced himself. He’s… interesting.”
Theo’s back straightens immediately, his face suddenly tightening. “What’d you talk about? Did I come up?”
“Yeah, I told him your national security number and blood type,” I tease with an eye roll. “No, you were not a topic of conversation, Walker. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
He nods to himself, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. Cool.”
“Are you okay?” I gently nudge him with my elbow. That’s the only physical contact I’m allowing myself to have with him. “I just told you the world doesn’t revolve around you, and you didn’t fight me on it.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m good. Avery is just… well, he’s not good news. Let’s leave it at that.”
“He seems kind of creepy,” I admit.
Theo tilts his head at me, waiting for me to elaborate.
“Wes said he asked for her number so he could ‘text her if he had any immediate questions.’”
Theo leans back in his chair, a frown playing on his lips—the lips I can’t stop staring at.Ugh.“He was like that back in Milan, too. He likes his women legal, but young.”
Wait, what? Theo knew Avery before when he was driving for Ithaca?
I don’t get a chance to press him further because Theo grins at me, making any coherent thoughts I may have fly out the window. “Want to play video games with me tomorrow night?And before you say no, I promise to give myself some sort of a handicap to even the playing field.”
“Is the handicap that you play with your toes instead of fingers while blindfolded?” I ask incredulously. “Because that’s the only way I’d stand a shot of winning.”
He laughs low in his throat and pinches my cheek. It’s a friendly gesture that reminds me that we are indeedfriends,which means I have to stop looking at him like he’s a Playgirl pin-up. “C’mon, Jos.Pleeaaseeeeee? Pretty please with a cherry on top? I don’t want to play by myself.”
I ignore the double entendre. “Can’t you ask Lucas or Blake? Harry? Mateo? Or literally any other human who actually enjoys video games?”
