Rejecting My Shifter Boss by Skye Alder
Three
Kiera
I’ve managedto avoid all my managers the last few days and I’ve nearly forgotten about my elevator man, who through some light internet stalking, I later learned was Roman Matthews, CEO of Alpha Cybersecurity.
Oh, who am I kidding? I haven’t forgotten about him. How could I? Those sapphire eyes keep showing up in my dreams, which have turned decidedly steamy since our encounter. Which is pathetic, I know. We hardly even exchanged glances, yet everything about him is branded into my being. I don’t know any other way to describe it. I...I feel him, even though I haven’t seen him since the elevator that day.
I know I’ll have to face the man himself at some point, but at least it won’t be today. I’m just packing up my stuff, ready to head home and dive into a bowl of piping hot Top Ramen.
“Kiera?” Tracy, my manager, calls out to me in that shrill voice of hers. “Oh good, I didn’t miss you. Mr. Matthews wants to see you for some reason.” There’s more than a little bitterness in her tone.
“Me?” I say stupidly. I’m not ready to see him again so soon. I haven’t recovered from the first time. And then it hits me. This isn’t about the elevator. This is about my job performance. Crap.
Tracy answers me with a nod and an eye roll, then points to the elevator and shoos me on. Stepping onto the elevator, I hit the button for the top floor, noting that it has been replaced since Roman busted it with his crazy strength.
I attempt to take a calming breath, but I end up coughing and sputtering. My heart thrashes around inside my ribcage, each beat making my temples throb.
I wonder how they found out I wasn’t qualified for this job. I’m still just going through the training modules and shadowing my mentor. Surely, I haven’t messed anything up too much. I vow right then and there to do extra research on weekends and weeknights to make sure I’m performing my job correctly. It’s not that the training is bad, it’s just that I don’t have the same knowledge as everyone else. I can fix that, though. I’ll just have to prove I can hold my own until then.
I can’t lose this job. Peyton makes good money as a designer, but it’s still an entry level position. Plus, it’s my duty to protect and provide for her, not the other way around. No, getting fired isn’t an option. I’m smart, I can catch on quickly if they just give me the chance.
The elevator slides to a stop and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as the doors open and I take a step out.
I almost run right into Roman and I jerk to a stop, my eyes wide as I stare up into his. I can’t help but look to see if they’re glowing but they aren’t. It must have been a trick of the light the other day. A tremor works its way down my spine as I get caught up in those deep blue eyes. Glowing or not, they’re captivating. Breathtaking. And yet somehow, heartbreaking, too. Clearly Mr. Matthews is a complicated individual.
“Hi,” I whisper. I clear my throat, trying again. “Hi, Mr. Matthews. I was told you wanted to see me?”
“Yes, come in, Kiera,” he says with a wide smile and for a moment, my breath stalls in my throat. I envision my name slipping off his tongue as he sounds out each syllable. I’ve never cared all that much for my name, but hearing it fall from Roman’s mouth makes me reconsider.
I try to hide my blush, hurrying into his office, but when my body brushes against his, I have a feeling it gets a lot worse. My whole body is tingling, like when your foot falls asleep and it’s starting to wake up. With each step that I take away from him, those tiny pin pricks get worse, and that empty, throbbing ache blooms between my legs.
I try to shake off the feeling. I try to remind myself that I can’t be attracted to the guy who’s about to fire me.
You don’t have time for guys. Shut. It. Down!
“Have a seat,” he says, and I look around his office as I head over and sit down in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.
Everything in the office is warm and I’m surprised. I expected some kind of glass and steel, minimalist-type space, but instead, he has a wood desk and a bookshelf lining one of the walls. There’s a fluffy grey rug underneath the wooden coffee table over in the seating area, and a comfortable leather couch and chair next to it.
“How long have you worked for Alpha Cybersecurity?” Roman asks me as he takes the seat next to mine. I was expecting him to sit behind the desk and my body starts to go haywire again at his closeness. I have to shift in my seat, hoping he won’t notice that I’m rubbing my thighs together to ease some of the pressure there. I can’t help it. That voice. Like liquid gold poured over gravel. It’s somehow both elegant and gruff and I feel it scrape against my skin, making me shiver.
“Um, a week or so?”
“Do you like it here?”
“Yeah,” I say but I sound more confused than believable.
What is this? Some kind of trap? Maybe he’s luring me in by being nice, making it so I’m not as upset when I leave and don’t cause any waves. That has to be it. I bet he’s going to fire me any minute now.
“Good, I’m glad that you like it here.”
He reaches over, his fingers crushing against my hand and I freeze. My heart starts to race and before I know what I’m doing, I start to lean toward him in my seat. My head feels light and fuzzy as I breathe in his earthy, pine scent.
Roman’s hand completely engulfs both of mine, the weight of it sinking down into me, and making me suppress a moan. I feel his touch everywhere, as if he’s caressing my entire body with the tips of his fingers.
“I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight,” he says smoothly, and it takes me a second to process his words.
My lustful thoughts stop in their tracks as something else takes their place. Relief. I can’t help what happens next.
I start to laugh.
I’m not getting fired. I don’t have to find three part-time jobs just so I can afford my sister’s weekly Skittle indulgence. The sudden weight lifting off my shoulders causes more laughter to tumble out of me, so much so that I throw my head back and let it consume me.
It takes me a solid minute to get myself under control, and when I look back to him, he looks confused, which only sets me off again.
When he starts to look insulted and annoyed, I get myself under control.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were going to fire me! I definitely wasn’t expecting you to ask me out,” I try to explain and he shakes his head.
“I’m never going to let you go,” he grits out.
It’s a weird way to phrase it, and an even weirder amount of force behind the words, but at least I don’t have to be worried about my job anymore.
“Thanks, um, I’m flattered but I’m not interested in dating anyone right now,” I say. I’ve never had to turn anyone down before. No one has ever asked. Nevertheless, even if this man makes me light up like a damn Christmas tree, that doesn’t change the facts. “Plus, dating my new boss isn’t a good idea.”
Roman seems surprised by my answer but I watch as he takes the rejection, puts a happy smile on, and leans back in his seat.
“I think it’s a great idea,” he says, his smile turning into a grin.
Something about his tone, or maybe his posture, has my back straightening. Isaiah used to do the same exact thing when one of our members didn’t do as he ordered or disagreed with him. He would turn on the charm, pretending to be a good guy, and I hated it. It was only a matter of time before he snapped again.
I glare at Roman, even though I know it’s probably not the best career move. That grin evolves into a full-on smirk, his lips twisted up as if he’s enjoying the challenge. Yet another thing he has in common with Isaiah. Cockiness, charm, and bullshit.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I narrow my eyes at him and ball my fists up in my lap.
“Well, I don’t,” I snap. “And believe it or not, my opinion matters.” How many times did I want to say that to Isaiah? To my dad? Hell, to any man from First Coming.
A sudden rush of emotions floods through me as memories pop up left and right. Not wanting to break down in front of my jilted boss, I grab my purse and stand.
Roman stands, too, and I think he’s going to say something but I don’t let him. I stomp out of his office, only feeling a little bad when a pretty brunette intern flinches. I don’t know much about her, but she seems sweet. This is no time to make new friends, though. I stab the button for the elevator about twenty-five times, trying and failing to crack the surface like Roman had done.
I barely resist the urge to flip him off as I step inside and turn around, watching him through the closing elevator doors. The only reason I don’t, is because I don’t want to offend the shy woman lingering around the front desk.
He looks shocked as I leave him standing there, and some part of me knows that maybe I’m overreacting. I don’t know him that well and he could be nothing like Isaiah. But the reminder of my past, coupled with the stress about my job and the unexpected turnaround has my head spinning. Better safe than sorry. Even if Roman isn’t like Isaiah, that doesn’t mean I should date him.
Those eyes, though. They get me every damn time. I still see them, even though the elevator doors closed a few moments ago. The blue depths held a mix of confusion, hurt, and disappointment. Why does my heart try to rip itself in two when I think about hurting him?
I’m exhausted. That must be it. None of the attraction, the pleading blue eyes, or the chemistry is real. It can’t be. It’s far too intense for anything that could actually happen in real life. I just need to get a good night’s sleep.
Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, my unhelpful inner monologue interjects.
The elevator opens on the ground level and I’m halfway across the lobby when I realize my sister has been calling my name.
I stop and try to smile as she joins me, but she can tell something is wrong.
“Want to talk about it?” she asks as we head down the sidewalk toward our apartment.
Do I?
It would be nice to get a second opinion, but I know Peyton will only worry about me and my job now that I’ve pissed off my boss. She has enough stress with starting her own job and running from Isaiah, our father, and the cult. Besides, it’s my job as the older sister to protect her from worries, not pile them on.
“No. It was just a long day. Let’s go home and watch some TV.”
She doesn’t seem to quite believe me, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she threads her arm through mine and leans her head against my shoulder as we head home.