Grace (The ‘Hello’ series)

7. Chapter 7

seven

I shove my door open with a groan, kick off my shoes, and slump through the hall to the living room. Music crawls closer, and I glance at Ashley’s room, hoping she stays there for a bit while I try to get my mind in order.

I don’t know how to start to talk about everything that’s changed today.

My mind buzzes and my skin tingles as I try to understand everything. A mix of emotions I never thought I would feel threatens to pull me away from reality entirely, the shock and heartbreak from Sebastian’s betrayal and something new as Mr. Brooks lures me in somehow, without my knowing whether it’s his intention. How am I supposed to figure out what any of it means?

If Mr. Brooks is toying with me because of his… likes… that’s unprofessional and I’m his son’s ex, so isn’t that wrong? Or maybe I’m crushing on an older man who finally notices me, who appreciates my company and welcomes my hard work, who doesn’t make me feel like shit…

Shaking my head, I rise from the couch and head into the kitchen. I fling open the fridge, still needing that ice cream I craved earlier. The chill of the freezer calms my frayed nerves a fraction.

“One problem at a time,” I mumble to myself as I peel off the lid of a Ben & Jerry’s caramel fudge.

“What’s the occasion?” Ashley jokes as she walks out of her room and tries to fit into the tiny kitchen with me. I press myself against the stove to give her access to the fridge.

“Confusing day and a shitty ex,” I mumble.

She leans against the bar, watching me with amusement glinting in her eyes. “Tell me more,” she urges, and I softly chuckle.

“It seems my ex has been screwing around with my boss’s assistant, who also was my supervisor, but not any more since I now have her job.”

She blinks a few times as she rolls her tongue over her pierced lip. “The boss is also your ex’s dad, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” I grumble and open the cutlery drawer to grab two spoons. “He’s nice, though.” I slide the Ben & Jerry’s to the center of the bar and hand Ashley a spoon.

“Who? Your ex?” she teases, and a blush rises on my cheeks as my stomach tightens.

“No, my boss.” I pause with a sigh. “His dad.”

“Nice enough to make you blush?” She giggles. “He would be a great rebound,” she adds.

“No, no, no.” I shake my head. “I don’t want a rebound. I just… I just want to do my job.”

She hums and glides the spoon in her mouth. “So, you don’t want a rebound. But you’re not saying you don’t want him.” Her eyes flick to mine as I gape at her. “Got you there, roomie,” she taunts and takes another scoop of the ice cream. “You can’t even deny it. You look like your eyes are about to bulge out of your head.”

“I–I–I… no, there’s nothing there. He’s nice to me, that’s it.”

“Okay, if you say so,” she says, keeping my gaze. “Tell me this, at least—why did you split with your ex?”

My shoulders drop. “I wasn’t what he wanted.”

Her brows drop as she scoops another bit of ice cream from the container. “And what did he want?”

I shrug. “More effort, more attention, more… sex.”

She huffs. “Ahh, you two weren’t… you know.” She tilts her head. “Was he bad at it? So many guys are. They think they’re gods and wonder why we fake headaches.”

I sigh. “It’s not that I never wanted… well… I wasn’t in the mood… I think.” It wasn’t as if I never tried. I just wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t have the same needs as Bash did.

She grins at me. “Oh, sweetie, he just wasn’t pushing your buttons.”

I blink at her. “What?”

She shrugs. “Sometimes, it just doesn’t work. You weren’t on the same wavelength, that’s it. Some couples do it every day, and some are fine without any. Everyone has their groove.” She waves it off as if it’s nothing, but I can’t help this feeling nagging inside me, telling that there’s something wrong with me.

“And what if it’s just me?” I whisper, and she freezes.

“It’s not you, Grace.” Her voice is kind and gentle, the teasing undertone nowhere to be found. “Trust me. It’s not.”

“But what if it is ?” I press.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

I swallow and try to string together the right words to explain my issues. “Nothing gets me going, I guess.”

A smile curls on her lips as her eyes narrow. “I can guess.”

My brows knit. “What?”

“That blush might have faded, but it wasn’t nothing.” She points her spoon at me as that teasing grin makes a comeback.

“No, that’s nothing,” I quickly say and take another bite of caramel fudge ice cream.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” she says and tosses the spoon in the sink. “Perhaps try to figure it out tonight.” She waggles her brows as she steps back.

“Where are you going?”

“Out with some friends,” she says and grabs her jacket. “So, you have the apartment to yourself.” She leaves with a quick wink as I’m rooted on the spot, trying to wrap my head around what she’s trying to say.

And as the door shuts behind her, I think about lunch and what I saw on Mr. Brooks’s computer. Is that what she meant? Would I fit in this fantasy Mr. Brooks has? Do I want to fit in this fantasy of his?

Could I even fit him at all? an annoying part of my brain asks.

With a sigh, I close the ice cream and toss it back in the freezer. I might as well check out the porn in full, right? It’ll probably feel the same as the times Sebastian made me watch porn and urged me to try some things we saw. The idea was weird, but the execution of this… I shiver, remembering how awkward I felt. Even after watching what to do, I was so unsure what to do with myself as he was doing his… thing.

I head to my room, carefully shut the door, then slump on my bed and grab my laptop, opening it without thought since I know even the slightest thought would stop me from going through with it.

Before I do anything, I take in my room. I’ve already removed all the pictures of Bash and me. So I just have a few cacti in front of my window, some books stacked on my nightstand, a desk that’s now holding the small TV, and a dresser.

I’m comfortable, I’m in my room, and I’m allowed to check this out. It isn’t dirty, it’s… it’s natural. It’s just me doing some… research. And maybe acting on that research if it pushes my buttons the right way. Even though it probably won’t.

But it wouldn’t be so bad to finally find out what I like, right?

My fingers hover over the keyboard as I try to muster up the courage to look for the site from his computer.

It takes a few Google searches, but then I find it. ‘Petite redhead gets rewarded by her boss.’

My breath is shaky as I click on the link and the video fills my screen. I don’t hesitate. I just press play. The scene starts as the woman comes off as insecure and clumsy while the man watches her with need and lust. The bad acting doesn’t distract me, and as the man praises her for her hard work, something wakes inside me.

My thighs clench as his fingers trail over hers, while he tells her how proud he is, how good she has been and that he wants to reward her.

She’s hesitant, but his soothing touch and praise lure her in and ensnare me, too.

They start slow, his lips grazing over her clothes until he gently undresses her, lays her down on his desk, and holds her legs wide open.

“Look how pretty you are,” he groans and lowers his lips to her pussy as I hold my breath.

Her moan rolls through me as she becomes lost in the pleasure he gives her, not even with his cock, but with his lips and tongue. It’s something I’ve never experienced, but based on how her back arches, her legs shake, the tendrils of her hair snake across the table as she moans…

I have no idea what he’s doing, but as I squirm on my bed, all I can think about is how it would feel to have that. To feel what she’s feeling. To have a big man take care of me, to make my pleasure the priority.

How it would feel if Mr. Brooks… oh, God, no.

I slam my laptop shut and crawl back.

Oh, I’m screwed.