Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

“Thanks,” I reassure him. “Is that all?”

“Nah, man. Other than your deal, the club opening was as good as we could’ve imagined. We’re going to make millions by next year, just wait and see. I already have three more bands lined up.”

I stare at my phone, still wondering why the hell Nathan’s calling. “Nathan, couldn’t this wait until morning?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just excited.” Nathan says, slightly chagrined. “Yo, man, about the girl . . . we kinda lost her. She walked out with a friend, but we’re gonna keep working on it.”

I nod to myself. Roxy . . . if only I could talk to her again to clear this up. “Don’t worry about her. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. The guy is more of a concern. If he did that at our club, you can guarantee he’s doing it elsewhere too.”

“Okay, man, just . . . get some sleep. I just want you to know, this club . . . it’s our rocket to the moon, baby. Rest easy.”

“You too. Goodnight,” I say, hanging up on him and lying back. I’m pretty sure I’m asleep before I even hit the couch cushion.Roxy

I'm a ball of nerves when I arrive at work Monday. It took me until nearly midnight last night to relax. Every time I heard a car outside on the street, I swore it was the cops ready to drag me off to jail. Eventually, Hannah got me to relax, but I still had to give myself some serious self-love to be able to get to sleep.

I’ve done pretty good with it so far since I got to work. I was even able to eat some breakfast after Hannah gave me a pep talk. I just need to focus on today. I don’t want to look like an idiot the first day I meet my new boss.

But still, as I check on the second floor for interoffice mail, I can’t stop thinking about him. How his lips felt against me. His hard body pressed into mine. The feeling of grinding on him, even if he was still inside his pants. It was . . . heartstopping.

I brush my desires and troublesome thoughts away as I take a deep breath and step off the elevator with a stack of papers in my hand, adjusting my black skirt with my right hand before making my way across the floor to my work area. Our office is at the top of a high-rise building downtown and has been around for decades. The floor plan isn’t my favorite, an open floor with cubicles that make me feel like either I’m constantly running a maze or that the agents are going to show up to arrest me for talking to Morpheus.

The board room is down the hall, past the coffee room and bathrooms, while along three of the walls are several glass offices for the higher-ups. Along the far back wall are three mostly unused meeting rooms, what a lot of us ‘cubey cats’ call the firing room, since the executives never fire someone in their own offices and they don’t like giving out pink slips in public.

“Here are the papers Byron wanted,” I say, bending over to place the stack on my co-worker, Matt Brown’s, desk. I don’t want to. I know he’s getting a decent view down my blouse, but I have to or else I’m going to lose the rest of my stuff all over the place.

Matt glances up from his laptop, raising his eyebrows, his widow’s peak going back on his head, making him look like the old young version of Eddie Munster. He’s tall and skinny, with pale reddish hair and brown eyes.

I expect him to at least give me a thank you. You know, tell me how grateful he is about having me run down to the mail room to get his shit for him. Instead, he sighs. “Damn, Rox, took you long enough.” He looks at me critically, up and down. “You get some decent makeup yet?”

He’s subtly insinuating that I’m starting to sag and look older, which makes me want to laugh. I might have a stress wrinkle or two, but it’s nowhere near what his baggy hound dog eyes have hanging under them. I grit my teeth but I don’t snap back. He’s always picking at me, trying to get under my skin, so I’m not taking the bait. Besides, I know I look good. I’m a fabulous bitch. Or I’d better be, given how long I spent in the mirror this morning. Matt’s probably jealous he can't pull off the skirt, blouse, and heels I’m wearing.

I laugh, not letting him know he gets on my last nerve. He’s really the only one here whom I dislike. “Let’s not, Matthew. I’m trying to be nice today.” I’m not gonna tell you about how I want to take that tie and choke you with it, I think inwardly. Maybe hang you from the window as a warning to all those who try to fuck with me—run away as fast as you can.

“Let’s not what?” he asks, hiding his smirk. “I was just asking you a question. How was your weekend?”

He knows damn well what he meant, but I’m not going to entertain him. “It was good. Stopped a few hearts, broke a few necks, and stomped a few balls. Ya know, the usual.”

He leans back in his chair, chuckling. “You know what, Roxy? I like you. Maybe we should hang out sometime. Have a few drinks after work?”

No way in hell. I’d rather take the Devil out for drinks. He’d only want me around to get drunk and then have the freedom to make me the punchline of his jokes.

“Sorry, got plans,” I say politely. I can't resist getting a little twist in, though, and add cheerfully, “Although I have a friend named Brad who you’d absolutely fall in love with.”

Matt arches an eyebrow. “Brad?”

I nod. “Mmmhmm. He’s tall, blond, blue-eyed, and he