Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but stare at him while he worked on some assignments for school. The way he bit his lip when he concentrated on whatever he was reading had me imagining other things his mouth could do. Or when he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, messing it up just a little, I pictured it was the same disheveled look he’d wear after a long night of rolling around in bed.
I thought if I offered to help him study, it would give me something else to focus on besides how damn hot he was. The problem was, Fallon wasn’t only attractive, he was smart as hell too. Good looks and intelligence were a lethal combination, and I had felt my self-control slowly slip away.
By the time he’d offered to cook dinner for us, I was hanging on by a thread. And when he said, “The only emergency around here is we haven’t kissed yet,” it had felt as though I only had a split second to choose whether to fight against our connection or finally take what I wanted.
The moment our lips touched, I knew I was in trouble. That kiss conveyed the emotions and chemistry we weren’t free to speak out loud. Every reason I’d had for why we couldn’t indulge in our fantasies flew out the window when his tongue met mine, and in an instant, everything had changed.
When the smoke alarm blared, I knew Day would rush in, which served as a reminder that we couldn’t act so carelessly because other agents were always nearby.
As I stepped out of the shower and began to dry off, I decided the best thing to do was to tell Fallon the kiss had been a mistake, and we couldn’t let it happen again. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I believed professional boundaries were needed if I was going to do my job effectively.
At exactly 0800 hours, I walked into his place to relieve Agent Meyer, who had been working nights. “Anything to report?” I asked.
“No. All was quiet last night,” Meyer replied and then headed out.
I could faintly hear the shower running down the hall, and my mind conjured up images of Fallon naked beneath the spray of water. I quickly pushed the inappropriate thoughts out of my head.
After what felt like an eternity, Fallon walked into the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist, giving me an eyeful of his toned chest and abs. My pulse raced, and I had to remind myself I was there to protect him, not flirt with him. But it was hard not to check him out.
My perusal of his hot-as-fuck body didn’t go unnoticed, and he teasingly said, “You might as well take a picture if you’re going to keep staring at me.”
I cleared my throat before quickly averting my gaze from the temptation in front of me. “You should probably get dressed.”
“Am I distracting you from your job, Agent Davis?”
“Fallon …” I sighed, looking back at him.
“Fine. I’ll be right back.” He spun around and walked to his room.
I paced as I tried to think of how to say what I needed to without sounding like a jerk. The last thing I wanted to do was make Fallon feel as though I regretted kissing him, because if things were different, I’d be rushing to his room for another taste. But I couldn’t risk my job just because I had the hots for the man I was tasked with protecting. The Secret Service would consider our situation a conflict of interest and more than likely move me to another team if they found out about us. And if they moved me out of Boston, I would see Poppy less often.
A few minutes later, Fallon returned, tugging a Hawkins U Rowing hoodie over his head, and walked toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“No, but we need to talk.” I followed him and leaned against the island while he made his cup.
“You can’t stop thinking about that kiss either?” He smirked.
I shook my head. “No. I mean yes, but it can’t happen again.”
He crossed his arms and glared. “Why not?”
“Because Day or any other agent could have easily caught us in a compromising position—”
“But they didn’t.” He turned to grab the creamer from the fridge.
I ran a hand down my face. “It doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to protect you, not make out with you in your kitchen.”
He closed the refrigerator door. “Fine. We’ll just go to my bedroom to make out, then.”
“Fallon,” I growled.
“Like I said last night, we’re both adults. We should be able to do whatever we want.”
“The agency won’t see it the same way,” I snapped.
“Whatever. You’ve clearly made up your mind. If you say it can’t happen again”—he closed his eyes and drew in a breath—“then that’s the way it’s gotta be.”
“Fallon—”
