Jules was behind the Customer Service counter when I entered Office Jax later that day. Her shift ended in thirty minutes, which meant I needed to do some substantial ass-kissing in that limited amount of time.
I stared at her the entire way as I walked to the back to clock in. She didn’t meet my gaze once. I had royally screwed this up. I rested my head against the wall next to the time clock. Shit, Ryan. What would make her forgive you? Being honest was the best I could come up with—which got me kicked out in the first place.
I made my way back out to the service floor and zeroed in on Jules, who rung up a customer and smiled at him as he left the store. As soon as her gaze landed on me, her smile dissipated and she turned around, messing with something on the back counter.
She jumped as I slid next to her, placing my palms on the Formica. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m an idiot.”
She raised her hand, still staring down at a stack of papers. “I get it. We hooked up. Now I’m bowing out.”
Ouch. I deserved that. It’s not that I didn’t want something more with her, I just didn’t know how to convince her of this.
She turned away from me and said, “Just please go before we get in trouble with your dad. I don’t want to lose my job.”
Against my better judgment, I decided not to argue with her. “Fine.”
I made one more pathetic attempt at an apology by handing Jules a price tag with I’m sorry, please forgive me scrawled on it. She read the slip, crumpled it in her fist, and threw it in the trash. Yanking my hair out one strand at a time would have been an easier form of torture. What did I have to do? I’d do anything for her to give me a smile.
A few minutes later, Jules disappeared into the back to clock out and then strode out of the store without giving me another glance.
Good job, asshole. You really know how to talk to girls.
What could I do to prove to her I was sorry, that I truly thought she was worth more than just a fuck?
The magazine. Maybe it had something in that article about how to make a chick forgive you when you royally screwed up. Lord knew I needed a fucking manual on how to run my life. I strode over to my locker and flipped through until I landed on the article. Quickly scanning through each step, my gaze honed in on number five.
Step 5: Show your soft side
Show that special someone that you care by sharing little details. Whether it be that you’re secretly afraid of spiders or you’ve always wanted to try a new hobby but were too nervous to follow through, letting them see you’re vulnerable is key to a fun fling.
This might have been stupid, listening to a magazine for single women, but it did have some solid advice. If I could just show her that she was worth more than a piece of ass, that I was stupid and insecure from shitty ex-girlfriends, maybe she’d forgive me. Getting her to talk to me might be tough, though. What kind of girl would give another second to an idiot who’s ex called right after having sex? Hopefully her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jules
Jack called Ryan and me into his office the Thursday I returned to work. My scalp prickled as I sat down in the chair in front of him. I folded my hands in my lap and fought past the urge to upchuck into his trashcan. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He probably watched the security footage of Ryan finger banging me while he was out at lunch. Dammit, I set myself up to be fired. Those long, talented fingers were a curse. Not that it mattered anymore. Ryan and I were done.
“I’ve been looking at your sales records the past few weeks,” he said, staring over a sheet of paper he held in front of him. “Both are excellent. Some of the best numbers I’ve seen in years.”
“Great?” Ryan’s statement came out more like a question. My thoughts exactly. Why were we both in here? I kept waiting for the but. But you’re both fired because you defiled my son in the supply closet. Or, better yet, I’m booting your ass because my son made you almost orgasm at the Customer Service counter.
“Courtney has offered to work on the fifth. Looks like you both can have the weekend off.”
“Really?” We both said at the same time. I didn’t bother to look at him, even if I was dying to say jinx. He so owed me a soda.
He nodded, his kind blue eyes creasing in the corners, just like Ryan’s did. His stupid douche-bag son who I shouldn’t be thinking about. “Mike will also be here, keeping an eye on things while I take a vacation day, as well.”
“Thank you, Jack.” I refrained from jumping up and down and fist pumping. Even if I wanted to duct-tape Ryan to one of the chairs in the back room and blast nineties music until he begged for mercy, it didn’t matter, because camping was on. I couldn’t wait to text Payton and tell her the news.