I just nodded, agreeing with him. I walked him to the door, and for a second, neither one of us moved.
“Thank you for dinner.”
“Anytime.”
“And for throwing away my flowers, I guess.”
I laughed, as so did he.
“You’re welcome…”
I softly laughed Again. “Goodnight, Vice…”
“Goodnight, Milan…”
I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, listening until his footsteps disappeared down the hallway. For the first time all night, I was completely alone. I should’ve felt relieved, but instead, I stood there thinking about the way Vice had looked at me right before I stepped away.
The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want him to kiss me.
The problem was how bad I did…
13
VICE BLACKWELL
It had been three days since I almost kissed Milan, and I still couldn’t get that shit out of my head.
I’d tried.
Between work, Sam’s murder and everything Mace had told me about what my cousin had been digging into before he died, I had more than enough to keep my mind occupied. Somehow, Milan still found her way into my thoughts when I least expected it.
More specifically, the way she’d looked at me right before she stepped back.
She wanted me to kiss her. I knew she did.
The problem was, wanting something and being ready for it were two different things, and for once, I wasn’t interested in pushing until I got my way. Milan had spent ten years with a man who betrayed her in a way that would fuck with anybody’s ability to trust again. If she needed time, I could give her that.
What I couldn’t seem to do was stop thinking about what would’ve happened if she hadn’t pulled away.
I sat behind my desk, staring at the same numbers I’d been pretending to review for the last five minutes before finally closing the folder. This shit was getting ridiculous.
My phone sat beside me, and I picked it up before I could talk myself out of it. Milan and I had texted a few times since that night, but neither one of us had mentioned what happened at her apartment. She hadn’t avoided me, and I hadn’t made shit awkward by bringing it up.
Still, three days felt longer than it should have.
I opened our messages and typed.
Me:You working?
Her response came less than a minute later.
Milan:No. Why?
I looked at the screen, already thinking about asking what she was doing, when someone knocked on my office door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and one of my managers stepped halfway inside. “You got a visitor.”
