The Art of Moving On | ✔

CHAPTER TWO; part two

     That afternoon I'm sitting with Halston and Grace in the lunchroom since our budget demands of us to indulge in the ever-delicious cafeteria food more often than we'd like to.

     Grace, who's been fidgeting with her spoon in a container of Greek yogurt for the past five minutes, says unexpectedly, "So your boss is pretty hot, huh?"

     "Dres?" I ask stupidly. Of course she's talking about Dres. It's not like I've got another boss. I shrug my shoulders and add, "I mean, I guess." Objectively speaking, Dres is attractive. I've been trying not to think about him on objective terms, though.

     Grace lifts an eyebrow, questioningly. "You don't think so?"

     Before I can answer, Halston says, "Not everyone has to look at people that way."

     Grace scoffs. "You'd have to be blind not to notice."

     "Sure, he's hot," I admit, feeling this burning rush in my stomach at the words. Something about saying it aloud makes it all the more worse. Dres isn't just hot, I know. There's more to it than that. I've really been trying not to think about it, though. Especially after the Private Weston fiasco. He'd closed up in a second, turning back into the same cold, uninviting man I'd met yesterday.

     "What does it even matter?" Halston asks, her tone indifferent. "He's your boss."

     "You're right," I say with a shrug.

     "Yeah, but he's not my boss," Grace says suggestively.

     Halston balks and I think she's going to say something but she doesn't. Her reaction is curious. This whole conversation, I think, is curious. Again I can't help being struck with the notion that something is wrong between the two of them. I'm hesitant to get involved. I'm also tired and don't feel up to refereeing that fight.

     "Go for it," I say with an eye roll and a shrug. The shrug's intentional, but the eye roll not so much. "He's an ass. But you're kind of into that, so."

     Halston stifles a laugh, barely, and Grace glares at me. "I resent that."

     "Hey, if it's true, it's true," I say offering her a forgiving smile. "Assholes have a certain appeal."

     "Really? I thought dicks did it for you," Grace responds suggestively.

     I laugh loudly. "If presented with an asshole, I'm certainly not going to turn it down."

     "I think it's a bad idea," Halston says.

     "Of course you do," Grace responds, her voice just a little too icy.

     "This is Cas's first job. You going after his boss would, at the very least, make things awkward, but could also turn into a major disaster. Plus, how old even is Dres?"

     I frown. "Mm, I don't know. Maybe like twenty five?"

     Grace grins. "I love an older man."

     I say, "To be fair, he has no social etiquette and can't hold a conversation to save his life. He may be pretty but he's like a painting. Go ahead and stare at it, but don't expect it to do anything but stare at you back."

     Grace is practically swooning in her chair. "I would happily stare at those muscles all day. And the tattoos. Oh my god," she purrs. "He definitely is a piece of art. You're so lucky you get to see him all the time."

     "When did you even see him?" Halston asks.

     "I swung by this morning. Come on Cas, back me up. The muscles? The tatts? It's unreal."