“You’ve lost your mind.” Knowing Larkin, she will find a way to reach these boxes with or without me, so I might as well be the one who touches them first so I can filter out anything she doesn’t need to see. I move her to the side and easily reach up to grab one of the boxes. Larkin claps her hands enthusiastically and reaches for it, but I block her instead, allowing myself a peek inside.
“Hey, I need to know the contents of that box.” She jumps behind me, attempting to look over my shoulder.
Ignoring her, I let my eyes adjust to what’s inside, and that’s when I spot a black spiral-bound notebook. That’s it, just one notebook. Nothing else. That’s odd. Why would I . . . ohhhhh shit.
And then it hits me like a freight train.
Oh hell no.
Nope.
No way is she going to see this.
I snap the box shut. “Nothing in here. Let’s, uh . . . let’s try another box.”
Larkin’s face lights up—she doesn’t believe me for a second. “Oh, there’s something good in there, isn’t there. I can tell from the blush on your cheeks. Let me see.” She reaches for the box, but I keep it out of reach. “Ford, stop, I want to see.”
“This is none of your concern.”
“With the way your upper lip is starting to perspire, this is most definitely my concern.”
“No, I really think we’re good leaving this one alone.”
She lunges for the box, but I hold it above my head where she can’t reach it.
She jumps.
She swats.
She even attempts to tickle me, but I hold strong.
“Give me that box!” Her voice is strained as she keeps jumping at my arm.
“Never.”
“Give . . . it . . . here.”
“Stop that.” I push her little jumping body away. “This is none of your concern.”
“Give it.”
“No.”
“Ford, hand it over, right this instant.”
“It’s cute that you think your barely authoritative voice is going to make me change my mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to discuss something with my mom.” Because why the hell would she keep something like this?
No one in their right mind should ever see this. Ever.
Especially Larkin.
Humiliation is already creeping up the back of my neck . . .
I take a step toward the door, but Larkin stands up on my bed and jumps midair onto my back, knocking me off balance. We both slam into the wall and slide down to the floor, the box flying out of my hands.
“What the actual hell,” I say as she scrambles off my back and across the floor to the green box.
Thinking quickly, I grab her foot and stop her, inches from taking hold of it.
“Let go,” she says, kicking her leg around.
“Jesus, you’re strong.”
“This is not boss-like behavior. I will take you to human resources,” she pants, twisting and kicking her legs.
“And I will tell them how you pounced on me first.”
“HR likes me better than you—they’ll take my side.” She scrambles, and she’s gaining centimeters on me.
“I sign their paychecks—they’ll always side with me.”
“Ugh, not everyone is about money.”
“Most people are.” I yank on her foot, bringing her back a few inches.
“Let . . . me . . . go!” She kicks out, hitting me in the chest and sending me backward. Stunned, I drop her foot, releasing her just enough to scramble the rest of the way to the box. She scoops it up and, like a ninja, hops up on her feet, leaps over the bed, and opens the box—to my intense horror. “Oh, a notebook . . . oooh, what could be in here?”
“Don’t open—”
Too late. She flips the cover open, and all the life in my body drains at what I know she’s seeing right now.
Fuck . . .
“Oh . . . my . . . God!” Just as quickly as she opened the notebook, she shuts it, her face red, her smile impossibly big. “Ford Chance.”
Groaning, I slide back on the floor and cover my eyes with my hands.
“You dirty, dirty boy.” From the sound of pages crinkling, she obviously opened the notebook again, turning this embarrassing moment into a full-blown nightmare. “You have a notebook of just boobs. Cutout boobs. Boobs in lingerie, boobs in tight shirts, naked boobs. What on earth?”
Yup, this is my life now. My assistant knows I have a boob book.
“And I will never be able to look at you again,” I say, wishing the floor would swallow me whole right about now.