Oscar hops off the table. “Look, you’re a good guy, Highland. I’m willing to go ahead and put myself in an uncomfortable situation for your goals, but I just need you to know I’m not going to be playing into your flirting—or whatever you want to fucking call it—anymore.” His stride is strong as he approaches the door, the one I’m leaning against. “This is strictly professional between us.” He stops inches from me. “And I want my goddamn clothes back.”
