I Hate You, Mr. Boss-Man [18+]

017

Sunday

Jesse Thomas: Can I see you again tonight?

Jesse Thomas: Meeting ran late yesterday and, I didn't want to bother you.

Jesse Thomas: Ignoring me again, sweetheart?

Jesse Thomas: Did I do something wrong?

"Jesus, just answer him already!" Jennifer pleads, glancing over her shoulder to look at me sprawled over the sofa. "Damn, you must have him withdrawaling."

I groan as a response, clicking off the screen before burying my face into the couch cushion. Leaving a guy you slept with on read is totally fine, right? But, Jesse wasn't just any guy, he wasn't someone I met at a bar or just ran into at a coffee shop. He was my boss, and if that wasn't the strangest predicament I'd ever been in? I don't know what was. Jesse hadn't stopped texting since this morning, he'd resulted to that after I dismissed the many attempts to call me.

"Dude, was the sex really that bad?"

I lift my head from the cushion, meeting her eyes from across the kitchen. "It was so far from bad." I scramble from the sofa, sitting up to face Jennifer, cushion on my lap.

"Then I'm not hearing a reason as to why you can't-"

"Because it's my boss!" I blurt out, immediately slapping both of my hands over my mouth to prevent myself from saying more. The fork in Jennifer's grasp clatters against the floor, her eyes wide, mouth agape. She was a deer caught in headlights, the shock clear on her face.

I lower my hands, taking the pillow in my lap, tossing it back onto the couch as I stand. "Please say something, Jen." I plead, clasping my hands together. "You're driving me crazy."

Jennifer takes a deep breath, blinking a few times before her mouth snaps shut. "I...I don't know what to say." She crouches down, her figure disappearing behind the counter for a moment. "Didn't you say you hated him?" Her hand pops up from behind the counter, pushing down to pull herself up, fork in hand.

"Ugh, I know!" I exclaim, holding my face in my palms. "I did hate him...or I still do? I don't know!"

"Hmm..."

"What?" I mumble, lifting my head to look at her, a wry smile pulling her lips, her hands on her hips. "What?" I press, my arms dropping to my sides. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It kind of explains your behavior some time ago, when you came back from Italy, that is." Jennifer drops her arms, flattening her palms on the counter, leaning forward. "Don't think I hadn't noticed that hickey, either. You know the one you tried so desperately to hide?"

I stare at her, my lips pulling into a tight line, my hand mindlessly trying to hide the mark on my neck. I hate that nothing could go over her head. "Nothing happened in Italy," I murmur. "We kissed and it might've gone a bit too far but, we didn't go all the way. Not until two days ago, anyway. Besides," I step closer, stopping until I reached the counter as well. "He didn't make it crystal clear as to what he wanted out of it. I don't know if he wants a few hook-ups or....something more."

"And you want something more?"

I render silent, contemplating her question thoroughly. Did I want something more? Was I ready for that type of commitment? I couldn't keep going back and forth with it. I needed to figure out what I wanted first. Yeah sure, he might've said something along the lines of wanting to have me all to himself but, I wasn't an object. I wasn't a prize to hide away and keep for himself. I needed to make that clear. "I don't know..." I answer honestly.