Page 96 of Breaking Hollywood

“Okay. But I don’t work for you anymore, remember?”

He frowns. “I won’t have you jobless just so I can fuck you.”

“Isn’t that my decision to make?”

“No. It’s our decision to make.”

Our.

I like the sound of that.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I want this—whatever’s happening between us—to keep happening. So, if that means I can no longer work for you, then that’s the way it has to be.”

“What will you do for money?”

“I’ll be fine. I have some savings that I can use until I get another job.”

He rubs his forehead, looking frustrated. “I don’t want you using your savings, Speedy.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” He tips his head back, eyes going to the sky, and sighs. “It’s just…I can’t fuck you while you’re my employee. But I don’t know how not to fuck you.” He looks at me, eyes filled with turmoil. “I want you all the fucking time.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “And I want you, too. So, I’ll find another job and move out of your place.”

“No fucking way.” His head snaps back down. “You’re not sleeping in your shitty car just so we can keep screwing.”

“My car is not shitty. And I wasn’t suggesting sleeping in my car. I’ll find another place to live.”

“And how are you going to do that with no job?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “But I’ll figure it out. It’s my problem to fix, Gabe.”

The look that flickers over his face tells me he doesn’t agree with that statement. “I’m fucking you, so that makes you mine. And any problem of yours is mine to fix.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. And, while we’re at it, while we’re sleeping together, you’re not fucking anyone else. Got it?”

Ha! Like I’m so interested in sleeping with anyone else.

“Goes both ways,” I tell him.

He laughs dryly. “Yeah, like I want to fuck anyone else. We’re in this position because the only person I want to be inside of is you.”

Holy shivers.

“Well, that’s sorted then.”

“That might be sorted, but your job problem isn’t.”

“Gabe”—I sigh—“it’ll be fine.”

“I want you to work for me again.”

Now, I’m the one frowning. “No.”

“Look, just listen…I want you to work for me. But I won’t pay you a salary. I’ll just pay you an hourly rate. So, you work for me during the day, and we keep our hands off each other during that time, purely platonic. Boss and employee. And then, when you clock off at night…”