His Treat

Having a hot boss isn’t complicated or confusing at all,
Said no one ever…
But all I have to do is resist for a few months.
Come January, I’m flying to Paris to chase my dream of being an artist,
Too bad I can’t have my treat and eat it, too.

I forgot to mention… My hot boss was also my high school crush.
Sort of.
First, I wanted to crush him with gooey affection.
In the end, I just plain wanted to crush him.
Now he’s back, and he might as well have “do not touch” printed on his chest.
One tiny question: would it count if I didn’t use my hands?

Let me answer my own question. Yes, Emily, you raging horndog, it counts. Besides, my dream is practically waiting for me like a perfectly wrapped, shiny little package if I can just behave. I’d be an absolute idiot to risk that, and I have a long, proud history of not being an idiot to protect.

Unless it’s kind of like when you do really well in class all semester so you can afford to flunk a test at the end. Three months is a long time, and if he’s the one giving me the big, fat, dirty “F”, it does add a little dose of temptation to the equation.

But all I have to do is one quick job for him. A few posters and a few props for a big Halloween party that he’s hosting.

Then I just walk away from his dreamboat eyes and perfect body, grab a plane, and forget about all the beautiful children we could’ve squeezed inside our white picket fence.