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couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation—the one where Lex tried to justify sleeping with Dwayne because I said I didn’t know what I wanted from our future. Lex couldn’t get it through her head that uncertainty didn’t warrant sucking another guy’s cock. A few good nights with Peach and I’d get out of this breakup slump.
    As that stupid article said, I needed to find common ground, because I was determined to find out if Peach’s lip gloss tasted like cherry or strawberry, which I’d spent last night debating. My guess: cherry. I held back a groan as I imagined those glossed lips working their way over skin straight to my—okay, not going there when I was out in the middle of the service floor, these Dockers giving little protection if I started sporting a stiffy.
    I made my way to the back and started packing reams of paper when I noticed a dolly leaning against the far wall. Was that there yesterday? No way in hell I missed that. I had searched for one last night and came up empty, having to make a few dozen trips back and forth carrying stacks of paper.
    Dad strolled in the back as I got the dolly. I pointed to it and said, “Was this here yesterday?”
    He gave his classic fuck you smirk. “The whole time.”
    No way. I know I checked.
    I pointed to it again. “Right here? In this exact spot?”
    He shrugged. “It may have been in the storage room.”
    “And you couldn’t have told me that when my arms were on fire?” I got it, he was pissed, his money was down the shitter, but if he could just cut me a little slack, I’d show him I wasn’t completely inept.
    “You didn’t ask.”
    “Gee, thanks, Dad.” I’d give anything to be out on a boat right now, the wind and water drowning out my thoughts. Ever since Dad signed me up for sailing lessons when I was ten, the ocean had been my go-to place. A few hours on the water calmed my nerves, leveled me out.
    He gave a low chuckle and strode out to the main floor. I clutched the dolly, working to keep my cool. The faster I got out of this store, this town, the better. I’d prove to him I wasn’t a screw-up. Plenty of smart people didn’t make it through college. Granted, most of them were exceptionally gifted in other aspects, but it proved not finishing college wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe the police academy wasn’t my top choice, but I wasn’t going to sit around playing video games in my dad’s basement until I was forty while still trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I was going to make good use of that career book in the meantime but wasn’t holding my breath. Sure, I’d love to find something I was good at, but I needed to quit this overused I don’t know mantra .
    As I pushed the dolly to the front, I took a long look at Peach as she messed with something in the printer section. Her black painted-on pants hugged every curve. She bent over to grab ink out of a display case, her shirt gaping open just enough to see the top of her lacy pink bra, her breasts spilling over the top. I quickly looked away, not wanting to openly check her out at work. As if Dad’s fucked up music station read my mind, Mariah Carey’s “Heartbreaker” boomed through the stereo system. I shuddered at the fact that I knew this song. Over the past six summers, Office Jax played the same loop of songs over and over. And over.
    I stole another glance her way, Jules now standing straight, the outline of the bra pushing against the fabric of her shirt.
    My cock twitched as I imagined her selling ink in just that pink bra and those ridiculously impractical heels. Come fill my ink cartridge, Ryan, she’d whisper in a husky voice.
    I should punch myself. I was clearly deprived if my mind had turned into some cheesy eighties porno.
    She looked up, and I quickly diverted my gaze to the paper display. What was with me? Normally, I was a lot smoother with girls. Peach had caught me checking her out at least twice now. Something about