Page 22 of So This Is War
Nope, it’s Coach Wood’s daughter, and it’s not just because she’s insanely hot with her dark red hair and light gray eyes or her killer curves.
Nope, it’s the fact that I know that face. I know that voice. I’ve touched those legs. I’ve kissed those lips.
It’s the redhead from the bar.
The girl I’ve been searching high and low for over the better part of a year. The girl who haunts me in my sleep. The girl I think about whenever I consider hooking up with another woman. The one I compare everyone to, who no one ever comes close to matching.
The girl I hired a fucking private investigator to find. That’s how goddamn desperate I was.
Wasted money, since all I had to do was ask Coach Wood to meet his daughter.
Because holy shit, she’s here.
“Posey,” Coach Wood snaps, and I’m quickly tossed out of my reverie.
“Yes, hi.” I clear my throat and hold out my hand awkwardly. “I’m Levi Posey, your new boss.”
With a devilish smirk on her lips, Wylie—now I know her goddamn name—sits down in the chair next to me and takes my hand in hers. Just like last time, a bolt of electricity shoots up my arm and straight to my cock.
Mother of fuck . . .
“Great to meet you, Levi. I look forward to tending to your every need.”
She lets go of my hand and turns to her father, who doesn’t seem too pleased.
Maybe it was my staring.
Maybe it was her sexual innuendo.
Maybe because this office now feels like a pressure cooker.
Either way, he looks back and forth between us and says, “Wylie, you understand your job responsibilities, correct?”
“Oh yes, to be at Mr. Posey’s beck and call.”
“Levi,” I croak out. “Levi is fine.”
“To keep things professional, I prefer Mr. Posey,” Wylie says with a glint in her stormy eye.
Jesus, is it hot in here? Because it feels really hot. Is it just me?
“Posey, you recall what we spoke about with boundaries?” Coach Wood asks, still eyeing me.
“Yes,” I squeak. “Yup, all good there.” I clear my throat. “Is there a, uh, start time?—”
“Tomorrow would be great,” Wylie says. “Actually, I’d love to go over what you need from me and your expectations if you’re free.”
Unsure if that’s a smart idea, I glance over at Coach Wood, who gives a slight nod. Since I have the go-ahead, I say, “I’m free. Do we want to grab a?—”
“One of the media rooms will be fine for your use,” Coach Wood says.
“Yup, I was going to suggest that,” I say even though I wasn’t. I was going to say grab a drink, but he doesn’t need to know that. “We can grab a media room.”
“Perfect. Let me snag us a couple of drinks from the cafeteria, and I’ll meet you in media room B. Does that work?” Wylie asks.
“Sure,” I reply.
She stands from her chair and taps on her dad’s desk. “Thanks for the opportunity, Dad. I really appreciate it.” And then she’s off, skipping right out of his office.
