My eyes fall like magnets to his chiseled chest, to his sculpted arms, to the abs that have haunted my dreams the last few nights.
I slowly drag my gaze back up, and a cocky smirk greets me.
“Want me to step back so you can get a better look?”
Damn it.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Stop tossing that ball against my wall. There are three others for you to choose from.”
He nods, having the audacity to look a little guilty. “Sorry. I’m not used to someone being in that room when I’m in a block.” He turns to head back to his office. “I’ll hit a different wall.”
“Wait,” I call out and inwardly cringe. Why am I stopping him? Why do I want to ask him about his books?
Oh, maybe because you’ve been secretly binge reading all his books and want to know which one is next.
“You’re blocked? Like on a book?”
He nods. “Yep.”
“Which book?”
He crosses his arms and leans in his doorway. “That’s the block. I need a new one, and it seems I’m out of ideas.”
I snort. “Unlikely.”
He shrugs.
“Seriously?”
A nod.
“I thought you guys were all inspired constantly.”
“Sadly, we are not.”
“Do you know why?”
“Why are you so curious?”
I shake my head and look at the floor. “I’m not.”
“Right.”
He knocks on the doorframe and then disappears. I don’t hear the click of his door, however, so I groan quietly and follow him.
“Okay, I’m a little curious. What do you do if you can’t write?”
He tosses the ball at me. I barely catch it before it beans me in the eye.
“Oh, yes, the magic ball.”
He lets out a huff of a laugh. “If only.”
I set the ball down on his desk. “Maybe I can help.”
I regret the offer as soon as it is out of my mouth. Not in a “I don’t want to help him” way, but in a “why am I subjecting myself to more time with him when my end goal is the exact opposite?”
Oh, right, because at the end of the day, no matter how I treat him, he’s still a human and well, the stiffness in his shoulders and his lack of banter has me all off kilter. And I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but he’s not terrible to be around.
