Page 92 of Unbalanced

I walk back to my desk and sit down to put additional space between us.

“Yes, we are. We’ve been great for years. What the hell has changed?”

My eyes lock on her as I sip my coffee. Great question. Emily. Emily is the problem.

“Is my cousin not treating you well?”

Her brow furrows.

“Is that the problem? Do you want me to get rid of Malcolm?”

I snort. “No. I really don’t care what you two do. I’m just wondering why you’re sniffing around me when you have him?”

Her lips press together in a hard line.

“I’m not sniffing. That’s insulting.”

I cock an eyebrow at her but don’t apologize.

“Fine,” she huffs. “Then what is it?”

With a sigh, I lean back in my leather chair. She crosses the room like a shark after blood. I stop her with a glare. If she dares to sit on my lap, I may just toss her out the window.

“I don’t need to tell you what’s changed for me. All you need to know is that there will never be anything between us again.”

Her face darkens, but she tries one more time. Camille walks over to lean on the front of my desk. The low V of her dress opens, revealing she’s bra-less.

“Alden, please reconsider,” Camille says, and bites her lip.

These flirty games may have worked in the past and piqued my interest because why not. But now…my pulse doesn’t rise, and my cock remains uninterested. All I feel is annoyed.

“Do you think I’m a teen unable to control myself at the sight of a pair of tits? You’re supposedly a smart and sophisticated woman, Camille. Shamelessly throwing yourself at me like this is…embarrassing and simply…repulsive.”

Her face blanches. She stands up straight and pulls the jacket tighter around herself. I wave my hand toward the door and look down at the paperwork in front of me.

“You can show yourself out. And, Camille…” I glance up at her again. “Don’t ever pull something like this again, or I’ll have security remove you.”

Her mouth moves, but nothing comes out. Then, in a dramatic flourish, she stomps out the door.

Rochelle sticks her head in a moment later.

“What was that about?”

“The woman is living in a fantasy world that doesn’t exist.” I tap my pen on the table. “Have security ban her from the building.”

“You think she’ll be back?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. But I’m not taking any chances that she’ll try something more desperate. I don’t do desperate.”

With a chuckle, Rochelle closes the door. I grab my espresso and take another sip.

Desperate.

A word that certainly could never describe Emily.

And just like that, she’s back inside my fucking head.

The harder I try to drag myself away from whatever this is, the deeper she sinks her barbs into me. Thought by thought. Inch by fucking inch. I’m beginning to realize the only way to cut Emily out may be to carve away pieces of myself with her.