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When I turn to her, I raise my brows. “Hm? You got anything to say? You’re talkative sometimes, quiet others. Maybe that’s why you’re interesting, Gwen. You mystify me.”
That makes her laugh. “Believe me, I am not complex enough to be mysterious.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I do, all the time. Simple as that.”
“Well, you shouldn’t.”
I walk to her, put the mug down, and then stay a mere two feet away. She twists on the rotating bar stool so that she’s facing me.
Her eyes, wide and frightened before, have a new lightness to them. A new spark. “Okay, since we’re getting to know each other, you owe me an answer. How much did you hear of my conversation with Lizzy?”
“Whoa… hold up there. You haven’t even answered me yet about whether you have a boyfriend.”
“Take a guess.”
“Okay, I’m going to guess you’re not seeing anyone at the moment.” Since you chatted about your crush on me.
“Correct. And I’m going to do my best not to be offended that you presume I’m single. Now, my turn. How much did you overhear this morning? Come on… I need to know.”
“Enough,” I say with a smile.
Heat rolls through the space between us. The air tingles with energy. My sleepiness has faded, replaced by a soft, warm, happy buzz.
“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that,” she mock-argues. She’s not upset with me. Not really.
We’re flirting, and she likes it.
I can tell by the sparkle in her eye when she looks at me. The subtle curl of her lip. And, her body language. She’s facing me, still. Her crossed legs point to me like an arrow, filling the small gap between us so that my legs are mere inches from hers.
She wags her foot, and that clog of hers flaps. She’s in purple socks today, with small pink flowers printed on them. I reach out and tap her ankle. “Flowers. Is this some kind of passive-aggressive complaint because I made you throw yours out?”
“No. I just happen to love flowers. Also, not so fast, mister. Aren’t we talking about how much you heard?”
Her teasing tone lets me know she’s having fun.
I’m having fun, too. I stay close and meet her eyes. “And I told you. I heard enough.”
“Enough to what?”
“Enough to know.”
“To know what?” she asks with a mischievous, fleeting grin. Her eyelashes flutter. She peers at me, daring me to speak.
It’s been so long since I’ve played this game with a woman.
This unspoken, wildly fun game that two people play when all there is between them is whispers of attraction. Strong, alluring whispers, but just whispers, nonetheless.
Nothing’s been spoken. Everything is possible.
These days, my dates have been boringly easy to secure. Women fall into my lap, no chase involved. I haven’t felt this rush—this excitement of not knowing what’s next—in a long time.
Not that I’ll ever act on my attraction to Gwen.
I’m too aware of my responsibilities as her boss for that.
Besides, a woman as sweet as her would never stand for a guy like me. I don’t do serious, and I’m guessing that’s the only type of relationship this wholesome, innocent woman engages in.
