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

036

Jesse

"I'll be your COO."

I couldn't sleep, the sound of her breathing and the whirl of the fan gracing my ears in the darkened room. My fingers comb aimlessly through her hair, her left arm resting across my bare chest, fingers hooked onto my shoulder.

I couldn't ask that of her now. At the time, I thought offering her a new position was a good idea. A step in a better direction but, I soon realized that after today. I never asked her what she wanted to do with her life. Did she even want the promotion? Was she just agreeing to make me happy? Did she have ambitions? Dreams? All I could think about was how her mother never gave her a choice, and I didn't want to do that.

My thoughts had begun to run wild, eyes averting to the woman in my arms. I knew that the job she applied for wasn't supposed to be permanent. My company was just a stepping stone in the right direction. I had learned that from a slip-up with her friend, Jennifer. Though she never told me what it was exactly, I knew it wasn't what Katherine wanted, and I just wanted her to be happy.

I sigh deeply, leaning over to press a light kiss at the top of her head before detangling myself from her grasp. I sit up, running my hands through my hair, glimpsing over at her to pull the duvet over her shoulder. I stand up, step out of the bedroom, and shut the door behind me.

I hadn't been home for eleven years—even now—it felt the same. Sharp turns and twists from the three flights of stairs. The damn carpet runner that always caught my foot. I hated it but, it was home. I walk across the foyer, dining hall—straight into the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?"

I almost drop the fucking glass, the deep sound of my brother's voice causing me to flinch. "What the actual fuck?" I hiss, meeting the eyes of Henry—who sat perched against the window—a cigarette between his fingers. "What the hell?"

Henry takes a long drag, his cheek hollowing as he takes in the smoke before exhaling clouds of carbon monoxide into the air. He taps the cherry against the window railing, the incandescent glow of the lights from the lawn giving me a clear view of his face. "Sorry, dude," He spoke quietly, though it still echoed against the walls of the kitchen. "Perfect opportunity, you know?" He simpers coyly.

I shake my head, prying the fridge doors open to reach for the pitcher of water. "Since when do you smoke?" I ask, shutting the fridge doors behind me.

"Since whenever I chose to," He remarks, taking another drag. "I'm on kid number three, man. I needed something to yank myself back down," He gestures to the cigarette in his grasp. "This is the best part of my day."

I exhale through my nose, shaking my head as I begin to pour myself some water. "Does Ronnie know you smoke?"

"What Ronnie doesn't know won't kill her," Henry snorts, reaching over to grab the ashtray from the sill. "Besides, the fact that dad smokes helps. I came out here to get some space. The last few weeks of her pregnancy are the hardest for her and me."

"Why?"

"'Cause neither of us get any damn sleep!" He exclaimed, extinguishing the light before turning to face me. "I'm laying there, right? I'm comfortable, warm, eager to fall into a deep sleep when the next thing I know, Ron's hogging the blanket—leaving me to fend for myself. Or she's having a hot flash, tossing the entire thing to the floor. I have to haul my ass out of bed to grab the damn thing, and it starts all over again." Henry's eyes widen slightly, almost as if he were reliving the entire night in his head. "Then I'm thinking, well, it can't get any worse, right?"