Elias
“Hmm, not bad,” Christopher murmurs as an attractive redhead walks past us.
We both watch her as she saunters over to the bar. She’s wearing a tight black dress, and she has a perfectly rounded ass.
I scrunch my nose up in distaste. “Average.”
“She is not average.” His eyes drop to her behind and stay firmly fixed. “Far from it, actually.”
“Not doing it for me.” I sigh against my glass as I look around the crowded club. It’s a rarity that a woman catches my attention these days, with the exception of Little Miss Snarky. I can’t get enough of her . . . even if she is completely unmanageable.
Our exchange in my office on Monday runs through my mind, and I exhale heavily.
She’s so f*****g difficult.
It would help if I could keep my mouth shut when I see her. For some reason, she
