special attention to the quieter ones, the timid ones. Watching his face through the caged helmet he’s
wearing, I could see the softness in his features.
After dinner last night, I’m less surprised by that. There’s a softness to him that hasn’t been
evident at work this week. Maybe it’s egotistical, but it seems obvious that my presence is the
difference. He’s been tense around me most of the week, silently disapproving. But with his family,
with the beautiful little Mia, he lit up.
Someday, I want someone to light up when they look at me.
I’m vaguely aware of the room quieting and Zach’s slight movements.
“Maya,” he says softly. “Look at me.”
The bubbly, heavy feeling is fading, making room for embarrassment. But I gather up the tattered
remains of my pride and raise my head.
Someone’s removed his helmet, and he looks…stunning. Oh, his hair is flat and there are lines
running down the side of his face from where the helmet pressed it. He’s sweaty and not at all put
together, and I think he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen…with the most kissable lips.
That thought sends lightning bolts to my toes.I have to get out of here now.Except I
underestimated how exhausted my muscles are, so when I try to step away, I wobble. Zach’s shout
echoes in my ear, and suddenly we’re falling and twisting. We both groan at the impact, and I take a
second to breathe and orient myself. Fingers and toes are wiggling. Check. Can I bend my knees?
Check again. Twisting my head back and forth, I’m relieved to feel no pain.
The gasp below me freezes me in place. It’s then that I realize my mouth is pressed to something
soft…really soft. My eyes fly open and lock on Zach’s rich brown ones. I suck in a breath but don’t
move. Maybe I’m locked in place with embarrassment, or maybe I just want one second. One more
second to enjoy the tingling in my lips…and in other parts of my body.
Zach doesn’t move, eyes searching mine. Something wild comes over me. Wild for me, at least. I
brush my mouth over his again.He’s your boss, that little voice reminds me, but I don’t listen.
Because this feels too good. So I do it again, then again. Just feather-light brushes. It’s not even a kiss,
not that I’d know much about those, so it doesn’t count. It’s not wrong.
The breath in my body explodes out as Zach moves, taking my lower lip between his teeth and
biting. Then does the same to the top lip. I’ve never felt anything like it or the pressure it creates low
in my stomach. The way it makes it clench.
