He shakes his head, then downs the rest of his drink. “I was hoping you’d rebuild your life around your art, not a man. It was always your creativity that brought out your spark, and I was just seeing it come back to how I remember it. That light in your eyes. And you have your new friends, right?”
I nod, knowing where this is going. After I stopped painting and started flailing in life, I lost touch with my old group. One by one, I pushed them away.
It was easier to isolate myself.
They wouldn’t understand that I didn’t feel like I fit in anywhere. Not in the art world, in their world, nor with my family’s expectations. And it’s been hard to make proper friends in all my random jobs since.
Yes, I have many acquaintances through K-Models, and Nia, but no one knows all of me.
Right now, the one who knows me best … is Mark.
“How are you going to develop those friendships when you’re lying to their faces?”
“I’m not lying, as much as … not telling them,” I mutter into my cup of coffee, trying to hide the guilt I have for lying to him about the atmosphere modelling as well.
He raises his eyebrows at me, hopefully attributing my blushing cheeks to the conversation at hand.
“It won’t be forever,” I protest, but I’m not sure if it’s Xander or me I’m trying to convince.
I’m staring at my computer screen, but I can’t really see anything. It’s late morning, and I know Mark should be in by now. I’m nervous as hell wondering what it’ll feel like to see him again. How will he look at me? What happens next?
After having had multiple orgasms with a godlike man, I should be giddy, and buzzing and tingling with excitement. But the same man has also been on repeat in my head. I swear I heard him say, ‘what have you done to me’ or maybe I dreamt it, I don’t know, but it made my heart swell. And then everything I felt for Robin before I knew it was Mark, everything that bubbled up in me that day I spent with him at the market, is all coming together into this hard ball sitting under my lungs.
For the millionth time I replay last night; all the compliments, the kisses, his touch, and the tender way he caressed me afterwards. The way he fell asleep in my arms as if he was this innocent creature and not a six-foot something muscular man that had just made me scream his name multiple times.
I’m about to explode with these feelings bunched up in my chest. This is new to me. And the need to see him right away is overwhelming.
As if I have conjured him up, his voice sounds across theoffice and I turn. He walks with a group of people in suits. He’s in another one of his navy three-piece suits, and the bubble in my chest ruptures.
Fuck, it hurts.
Why does it hurt? Because it’s unrequited? No, he feels something, I’m sure of it. I want him to tell me.
I follow him from a distance down the hall to the large meeting room in the corner, and watch him as he leads the group of people inside. Patrice, his PA, is there. He says something to her, and she walks into the room while he turns.
Away from the room?
He’s coming this way?
Fuck.
Did he see me stalking him? Oh my God, I’m the worst. Talk about being discreet.
I swivel on the spot and pretend I’m very busy looking at a plant and realise I’m right by one of the new vending machines and turn to it instead. That makes more sense as a thing I’d do.
His scent meets me before he does. Oh, that scent. I smelled it on my pillow this morning and it was the only thing I had that confirmed to me he’d been there. Well, that and a delightful ache between my legs.
“Good morning, Rey,” Mark says in a professional tone. No underlying ‘I really enjoyed myself with you last night’ or ‘I love your cunt’ and my stomach sinks. He enters a number on the vending machine. Nonchalance incarnate. I don’t dare look at him for fear of actually falling apart in the middle of the office.
The heat from him radiates and I want to touch him so badly.
“Rey,” he rumbles with the intensity of last night, and finally I look up to meet those hazel eyes. My heart lurches in my chest, and I stifle a gasp. “Check your phone,”he says as he dips down, grabs the protein bar from the machine, and then strides back to the meeting room with that formidable straight-backed walk of his. The suit looks sculpted onto his broad shoulders, and I’m struggling not to melt on the spot.
I need to pull myself together. I’m being way too obvious.
What did he say? Check my phone? Isn’t that all I did this morning?
I return to my desk and get my phone out.
