I don’t know what possesses my hand to fill the gap between us but before I know it, my palm is resting on her lower back, pulling her in closer.
Realizing what I’ve done, I’m about to let go, but she takes a step forward.
“You were saying?”
The sensation the crisp fabric she’s wearing creates as it’s brushing against me sends a surge of heat up and down my spine. Pushing through, my lips part. “It means you’re feisty, and a little rough around the edges.”
Her tongue clicks. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re calling me crass.”
“No. It means you're bold.”
“That’s a fancy way of telling me what I’ve heard one too many times before.”
“I meant it as a compliment, seriously,” I say, practically pleading my case to her. “It’s a compliment. So take it.”
An unconvinced glare flashes before me. “Is that an order, Mr. Ramos?”
What is she doing to me?
The flirtatious inflection to her voice is pure torture.
“No,” I barely manage.
“Good, because I’m selectively good at taking those, and I’m even worse at taking compliments.”
“Well, take mine.”
A sigh slips past her lips. “Maybe.”
“That’s all I get? Just a maybe?”
Straightening her posture, she creates space between her spine and the doorframe. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.
She clears her throat, crossing her legs as she does, and it reminds me of why we are standing in the bathroom in the first place.
I point to the opposite side of the penthouse, toward my room, telling her where the attached en-suite bathroom is.
She thanks me, about to walk past, but she stops herself and we find ourselves in an awkward standoff. At this point, the leak from the vanity is a paid actor with no intention of stopping. The steady drip has picked up speed.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” she asks.
I inch closer to her. My hand reaches for her chin, turning her head and tilting it upward to face me. “You know, I’m not just book smart. I’m good with my hands too.”
Her breath hitches, as does mine. The double entendre I injected into the air weighs heavily on us both. Though neither of us says anything. It continues this way until she breaks the silence halfway up the stairs to my en-suite.
“I remember,” she says with her back facing me.
“Good,” I whisper to myself. Pride soars in my chest as I fix the leak, hoping that if nothing else, she never forgets that feeling. I know I never will.
Once I get the leak in the bathroom under control, I meet Sarina in the kitchen. I go over the documents I needed to review with her and can’t help but notice her attention drift.
“Am I boring you?”
The chair squeaks against the floor as she rises to her feet. “You, no. These dry-ass documents? Absolutely.” Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “No offense.”
There’s no denying that everything I went over with her is as dry as overdone toast. “None taken. Can’t argue with you there. I couldn’t help but notice you kept looking out the window.”
