Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,56

when I see a Hershey’s bar, a Costco-sized bottle of Midol, and a legion of tampons spilled on the floor from Sarah’s purse. It’s like a Menstrual Survival Kit.

“Yes.” Sarah sighs, pressing two fingers to her temple. “I forgot about an errand I’m supposed to run. Ugh. I just wanna crawl between the sheets and die for a little while.”

“Let me handle it.” Another thing I can’t afford. Doing other

people’s jobs, but it feels like I’ve been doing that all day. All week. “You sure?” Doubt pinches Sarah’s pained expression even more.

“I know you have a ton to do.”

“As you can see by the state of my desk,” I say, pointing a thumb over my shoulder toward my office. “Work isn’t going anywhere. Anything I don’t finish today, will still be there tomorrow.”

“Oh, good.” She blows out a relieved breath. “Let me get Grip’s bag.”

“Let you get what?” Tiny thrills of panic and anticipation alternate through me. “Grip’s bag? What do you mean?”

“He left his bag here earlier today when he met with Rhyson.” She bends to gather the spilled items from the floor, shoveling them into her purse. “He needs it tonight, and I told him I’d drop it off on my way home.”

Apparently, I’m back at the lowest level of hell. After a week like I’ve had, the last thing I need is Grip being all . . . Grip. He’ll ask me out. I’ll refuse. He’ll try to kiss me. I’ll evade. I’ll leave, and he’ll go screw some random girl, thereby proving I was right not to give him a chance.

It’s what we do.

We’ve been playing this game that isn’t a game for years. One day, he’ll realize I mean it when I say there isn’t a chance in . . . well, hell, that it’ll ever happen between us.

“I need to give you the code for his loft. He texted it to me.” Sarah pulls out her phone, scrolling through messages. “He says he misses the bell all the time. So just use the code and go right in because he’ll probably have the music up or be in the shower.”

Grip in the shower. My mind paints vivid pictures that involve Grip’s powerful body, rivulets of water, and not much else. I may not want a relationship, but I’m not blind or dead south of the waist. My heart, though, last time I checked, was north of my belt. I don’t let anyone near that thing. If I let Grip in, the compass goes out the window. North or south wouldn’t matter. No territory would be off-limits with him. I see Grip all the time. Here at the label offices. In the studio. At shows and appearances. But alone. At his house. Freshly showered. And me vulnerable, and let’s face it—horny, is a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster I’ve managed to avoid for a long time.

“Maybe he’ll be fine without the bag tonight. I mean . . .” I falter, embarrassed at how husky my voice sounds, though Sarah would never guess it’s because of the shower scene playing in my head. “It can’t be that urgent.”

Disappointment and resignation flicker across Sarah’s face, but she covers it quickly.

“Don’t worry about it.” She pulls the purse on her shoulder and reaches under her desk to retrieve a black leather backpack I recognize as Grip’s.

“He offered to come get it, but I said I’d bring it. I’ll do it.”

Guilt burns in my chest. Sarah lives around the corner. She’d really be going out of her way to take the bag to Grip. I, on the other hand, pass his exit on my way home. I really wish I was as much of a bitch as people think I am.

“Gimme.” I flick my fingers for her to hand the bag to me. “I got it. You go home, dope yourself up with Midol and chocolate, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Relief slumps her shoulders and brightens her eyes.

“Of course.” I take the bag and shoo her out the door. “Go.” “You’re the best boss ever.” Sarah makes her way carefully toward the door like lady parts might fall out if she walks any faster.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” I manage a grin. “Remember this when I have you working till midnight next week.”

Once she’s gone and the office is quiet and it’s just me and my never-ending pile of tasks, I get back to work. I can barely focus, though, with that bag sitting in the corner mocking