Page 88 of Finding Us
She starts typing on her keyboard, saying the words out loud as she does. “Ways to tell if you’re in love with someone?” She pauses for a moment, reading her computer screen. “Hmm, here we go. They have a questionnaire.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Do you want to know, or not?”
“Fine.”
“Question one: Do you think of her regularly?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel safe with her?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have her around my son if I didn’t.”
“Is life with her more exciting?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Do you want to spend more time with her.”
“I snuck out in the middle of the work day to see her, so that’s a given.”
“Do you get jealous of other people in her life?”
I look down at my lap. “Not people in her life per se, but when we went clubbing for her brother’s birthday, I wanted to take out any guy that looked at her sideways … and don’t even get me started on the handsy fuckers that constantly approached her on the dance floor.”
“That would be a yes,” Olivia says, giving me the side-eye. “You sound like you’ve got it bad.”
I clear my throat, because I can’t even deny it. I’m glad I didn’t mention the hickey I branded Jacinta with earlier today—marking my territory for her little strip club outing tonight—which is something I’ve never done, or wanted to do before. I chuckle at the absurdity.I’m such an idiot.Is this the kind of shit I’ve got to look forward to being in a relationship?
“That’s rich coming from the creepy stalker lady.”
“Huh,” she says, clearly not impressed.
“Next question.”
“No need, I’ve heard enough. Congratulations, Boss, you’re in love.”
“I am?”
“According to Google you are.” With that, she reaches across her desk and snatches the jar of jellybeans from my hand. “Now scoot, I have work to do.”
I shake my head as I stand and head towards my office, unravelling my inside-out tie as I do.
Fucking Google.
It’s 10.30 pm, and instead of being in bed, I’m pinging off the walls. I’ve managed to refrain from texting Red. I have absolutely no problem with her being out with her friends, it’s their location I’m not comfortable with. I’ve been to enough strip clubs in my life to know what goes on there and the type of riffraff those places attract.
By the time eleven o’clock rolls around, I lose my battle.
Wolf: How’s your night going?
Minutes pass before I get a reply.
Red: It was great. Candy killed it. I’m so proud of her. The club was a real eye opener, but I had the best time.
I tilt my head back and groan. That’s not what I wanted to hear.
