The Wrong Kind Of Distraction

Matt's POV

A week had passed since Racheal Evans walked back into my life. A week of trying to ignore the fact that she was working under my roof now. I had hired her, against my better judgement, against every instinct screaming at me to keep my distance.

I told myself it was just business, that her qualifications were solid, and I wasn't doing her a favor.

But the truth?

I wanted her close.

Even if I knew it would drive me insane, even if I knew it would bring back things I wasn't ready to deal with. And right now, as I stepped into Sterling Enterprises, insanity was exactly what I felt. Because there she was.

Standing in the lobby, laughing. And next to her, looking at her like she was the most interesting thing in the world, was Dylan Carter. My best friend, my oldest friend, and a legendary flirt.

My jaw tightened as I slowed my steps, watching the interaction unfold in front of me. Dylan was leaning in slightly, wearing that stupid, easy grin that women always fell for. His hand brushed against her hand, his fingers lingering longer than they should have. And then, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

What. The. Hell.

I should have walked over, should have stopped it, should have said something, but I didn't.

Instead, I clenched my fists, forced my expression into something neutral, and walked past them, ignoring the whole d*mn thing. Because it wasn't my business, because she wasn't mine. I told myself that all the way to my office, but it didn't stop the fire burning in my chest.

---

It felt like forever before Dylan finally strolled into my office, looking way too pleased with himself.

He dropped into the chair across from my desk, stretching like he owned the d*mn place. "Well, well, well," he said with a smirk. "You really have been hiding all the interesting ones from me, haven't you?"

I didn't look up from the paperwork in front of me. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He scoffed. 'Oh, come on, Matt. Don't play dumb. Racheal?"

At the sound of her name, I gritted my teeth.

Dylan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "I stopped by to see you and, what do you know, I got a little... distracted."

I exhaled sharply, still keeping my eyes on the papers in front of me. "She's just another employee, Dylan."

He chuckled. "Yeah? 'cause that 'employee' happens to have the prettiest d*mn smile I've seen in a long time."

Something ugly twisted in my gut.

I forced a smirk. "That smile won't mean much when you realize she's just another desperate girl looking for a paycheck."

Dylan raised a brow. "Desperate? Please don't tell me you've f*ck*d this one too."

I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. "No, I haven't. She was practically begging for a job, man. I felt bad for the poor thing."

I didn't know why the words were coming out of my mouth, I didn't know why I was trashing her. Maybe because I needed Dylan to lose interest. Maybe because I couldn't handle the thought of him getting close to her.

Dylan just laughed. "D*mn, Matt. That's cold."

I smirked. "Just telling it like it is."

Dylan sat back, looking at me like he was trying to figure something out.

Then he grinned. "Well, lucky for her, I don't mind a little desperation. She's intriguing.'

My stomach twisted. I should have let it go, should have nodded and moved on.

But instead, I said, "She's not your type."

Dylan chuckled. "And what's my type?"

"Not her," I said flatly.

His grin widened. "That so?"

I rolled my eyes. "You like women who are already on your level. Racheal? She's just... average."

I didn't believe a single word I was saying. But Dylan didn't need to know that.

He let out a low whistle. "D*mn, Matt. You really don't like this one, do you?"

I smirked. "I don't care either way."

Dylan studied me for a moment. Then he shrugged. 'Well, that's good to hear, because I do."

I stilled.

Dylan grinned. "She's refreshing, genuine. I like her."

Something snapped inside me.

I slammed my pen down, my jaw clenching. "Forget about her, Dylan."

His brows shot up. 'Whoa. What?"

"She's not in your league. You'll get bored in a week and move on to someone more exciting, someone who actually fits into your world."

Dylan just laughed, shaking his head. "D*mn, man. What's with you today?"

"I just don't want you wasting your time."

Dylan leaned back, folding his arms. "And if I decide she's worth my time?"

I smirked coldly. "Then you will regret it."

Dylan chuckled again, shaking his head. "You're full of sh*t, you know that?"

I stayed silent.

He smirked. "You can't stand the thought of me being interested in her, can you?"

I scoffed. "I don't care what you do, Dylan. I've never did."

He studied me for a long moment, then said, "She feels different."

I clenched my jaw. Because he wasn't wrong. She was different. And that scared the hell out of me.

But instead of admitting it, I just smirked and said, "Whatever."

Dylan grinned. "Right, whatever."

I turned back to my paperwork, pretending this conversation never happened. But as Dylan walked out of my office, I couldn't ignore the rage still simmering in my veins. Because if Dylan wanted Racheal... I didn't know if I could stop him.

And that thought alone was enough to drive me insane.

It wasn't like I cared who Racheal spent her time with. Right?

I pushed the thought aside and focused on the stack of documents in front of me. Work usually helped clear my head, but not today. The way she had looked at Dylan like he was the most charming man in the room. I clenched my jaw, shaking off the thoughts as I scrawled my signature across the last page. Done.

I picked up my desk phone and pressed a button. "Evelyn, come in and collect these files."

"Yes, Mr. Sterling," came her immediate response.

I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the city skyline, trying to convince myself that Racheal was just another employee. That Dylan could do whatever he wanted. But the way my blood had boiled seeing him touch her? That told me otherwise.

A soft knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Come in," I called.

Evelyn stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She was dressed in a fitted blouse and a tight pencil skirt, her long, manicured nails painted deep red. She moved with confidence, her hips swaying as she approached my desk.

She stopped right in front of me, placing a hand on the stack of files. "All done for today?"

"Yeah," I said flatly, barely looking at her. "Take them to legal for processing."

She didn't move right away.

Instead, she sighed dramatically. "You work too much, Mr. Sterling."

I glanced up. "That's kind of the job."

She smiled, stepping closer. Too close.

Then, right in front of me, she unbuttoned the top of her blouse.

One.

Two.

Three buttons undone, enough to reveal the lace of her bra and the soft curve of her breasts.

I blinked once, my jaw tightening.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She gave me a sultry look, tilting her head. "I just think you need to relax a little."

I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my face. I had no patience for this right now.

"Button your d*mn shirt, Evelyn." My voice was cold, detached.

She hesitated, then let out a nervous laugh. "Oh, come on, Mr. Sterling. You and I know you're stressed." She ran a perfectly manicured finger along the edge of my desk. "I can help with that."

I pushed my chair back slightly, giving her an unimpressed look. "Not interested."

She pouted. "I've seen the way you look at women, sir. I know of the things most women who come to see you do in your office with you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? And?"

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. "I know you like to have fun."

I clenched my jaw. I didn't need this, not today.

I stood abruptly, leveling her with a sharp look. "Evelyn, if you want to keep your job, I suggest you start acting professionally."

Her eyes widened slightly. Clearly, she hadn't expected me to be the one shutting this down.

After a second, she huffed, quickly buttoning her blouse again. "I... I'm sorry, Mr. Sterling. I didn't mean to overstep."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Just take the d*mn files and go."

She nodded quickly, grabbed the paperwork, and practically bolted out of my office.