Temptress

31|Trouble

Sereia's POV

I watched my father's heart rate on the monitor as the machine slowly beeped.

He was still the same.

My mother was beside me knitting.

Yes, she knits.

At least she's not sniffing crack in the bathroom. Right now, at least.

Surprisingly, she was acting quite tolerable.

"What do you do for a living, baby?" she asked as she continued to knit the pink sweater.

"Office work," I kept the details very simple and limited.

"Are you happy?" she asked as she looked up at me.

Honestly, I didn't know, so I just ignored her.

The door opened before Elliot walked in holding two coffees.

I honestly don't know why he's here.

His schedule is extremely packed this week and he doesn't even know my father.

But I'm glad he's here. He keeps me calm.

He handed one coffee to my mother and handed me the other.

I know that he'll never drink coffee made in a hospital, but he never said that out loud.

"Thank you, sweety," my mother smiled at him. "Baby, your boyfriend is such a gentleman."

Why does she keep doing this?

I looked down. "I told you already, Mom. He's just my boss."

Elliot shot me a devious smile as he sat next to me.

His hand grabbed my thigh and I gasped. "So I'm just your boss now?"

I avoided eye contact with him at all costs.

He squeezed my thigh tighter. "Come on, don't lie in front of your parents. Am I just your boss, Sereia?"

My mother watched me waiting for an answer and my heart started beating faster.

He's made my heart rate rise so many times that I'm probably at risk of a heart attack.

Luckily, we're currently in a hospital.

"I-you're-"

I couldn't find any words to answer him and he laughed before he removed his hand from my thigh.

"I'm just playing with you, Sereia."

Since we shared that kiss in his office yesterday, we haven't gotten to talk about it.

I know how he feels, but I don't know where he stands.

Does that make sense?

What is he going to do? Was that a one-time thing? Was this something we're going to make happen regularly? What!?

Now the man who helped me stop overthinking was the current cause for my overthinking.

I turned to him, tired of us avoiding this conversation. "Are you just my boss?"

His smile faded. "Of course not."

"Then what are we?"

He looked at my mother and then my father's unconscious body. "Is this really the place and time you want to talk about this?"

I turned away from him and began drinking my coffee because he was right.

We can't discuss this matter here, right now.