Billionaire Flawed 2(176)

“So, you’re saying it’s like winning a game? I think I know what that feels like, Holly,” he said with a smirk.

I’d known Matt for so long that I sometimes forgot how well he knew me. I could be a little scatterbrained at times, and he always called me on it.

“Right, like winning the big game,” I said with a sigh.

“You’re a mess when you’re excited,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, at least, I perform well in the moment. The rest of my team always says I give the best counter-arguments,” I said boastfully.

While I never really found myself attracted to Matt, I always found him especially handsome. He was tall and well built, lean and muscular in just the right areas, and knew how to hold himself well. I was more than a little jealous of his overwhelming confidence.

“Are you coming out to my party this weekend? You’ve missed the last couple months, and I was hoping that you’d get to meet my new girlfriend,” he said.

I paused a moment, somewhat speechless. He seemed to have a party every weekend, and I usually was capable of coming up with a good excuse to avoid attending, but having broken up with Albert, I couldn’t come up with anything.

I slumped into my chair and sighed.

“Okay, I suppose I can make an appearance for a little while at least. But, I can’t drink. I need to get a lot of studying done early Saturday.”

“Don’t worry; I won’t be the one forcing drinks down your throat. Besides, I know you don’t drink anyway,” he said, “Okay, I gotta get out of here. I have to meet up with April; she said she had a surprise for me, and I know what that means.”

He smiled that devilish smile he flashed when he knew that he would be sleeping with someone and stood up to leave.

I stood and gave him a big hug to see him off. I really was lucky to have as good a friend as Matt. He always stood up to the bullies that I seemed to always attract; meanwhile, I would tutor him when he was failing miserably in class.

He sprinted off for the door and gave me an excited wave as he left. I rolled my eyes and giggled at his silly behavior; he was a grown man but still acted like a schoolboy when a girl beckoned him.

I continued on with my work; I had an entire argument to prepare before Monday’s mock trial, and I didn’t want to be the person who lost it for our team.

“You look like someone who could use a break,” I heard a voice say from behind.

I whipped my head around and made myself dizzy in the process. When my vision cleared up, I saw a rather tall and large man standing behind me.

He had a smile plastered on his face, with chiseled cheeks and high cheek bones accenting his somewhat silly expression. His eyes twinkled with a deep blue hue, and a tousle of blonde hair was neatly shaved atop his head.

He walked his powerful build around and sat in the unoccupied seat beside me.

“Hello?” I questioned.

“Jeff,” he replied.

“Ah, hello Jeff,” I said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for conversation, I have a lot of work that needs to be done.”

He picked up one of the many books I had lying around and examined it closely.

“Trial procedure,” he said in a monotonous tone.

“What of it,” I asked.

“Nothing, just trying to make sense of what you’re studying,” he replied.

I let out a deep sigh and tried to drink from my empty coffee cup. I slipped my current studies into the book on the table to mark the page and closed the book.

“If you need me to spell it out for you, the least you could have done is bring some coffee,” I said, shaking my cup.

He raised his eyebrows in a gesture of understanding, or flirting; I didn’t know which, and sauntered off. Before long, he returned with a pot and filled my glass before returning to the seat beside me.

“So, spell it out for me,” he said.

“I am the prosecuting attorney in a mock trial, and I have to study for my case. You understand what a mock trial is, right?”

“I think I get it,” he replied with a laugh.

I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to shoo him away, or keep him around as a distraction. My work was beginning to get a little boring without someone to talk to. I might not look it, but I’m rather social when it comes down to it.

“Is this what you do for fun,” he asked.

It sounded like he was being condescending, but it might have been something I imagined. So I answered as honestly as I could.

“It’s not like I seek this out for recreation, but I find the arguing enjoyable.”

“I object,” he said, jokingly.

I laughed awkwardly at his obvious attempt at a joke.

“Is this what you do for fun?” I asked.