Page 53 of Her Wicked Plan

The moment my lips touched hers, I blacked out. My office had faded away to nothing, and I had tunnel vision. She was the only thing I saw in my blindness. It was as if I had gotten drunk off my ass, and she was the alcohol I stupidly drank.

This shirt is too fucking tight. It’s suffocating me, stealing all the air from my lungs with how compressed it is against my body.

Unbuttoning the top few buttons, I tug the collar away from my neck, hoping it will relieve the panic of being unable to breathe. I’m not surprised when it doesn’t help. Only a little air finds its way into my lungs, but it isn’t enough.

I need more.

Unclasping the rest of the buttons, breaking a few off the thread that secured them to the fabric, I tear the shirt off of me. It falls to the floor as I continue to pace back and forth, not caring that I’ll never be able to wear that shirt again.

“Breathe, Leo.” I attempt to calm myself down.

I drive my hand through my hair to get it out of my face because even the strands brushing across my skin are too much stimulation.

I attempt to block out the images of what took place in my office, but it seems impossible to push the memories away because all they want to do is keep coming back to haunt me.

The kiss between me and Veronica shouldn’t have happened. My lips should have never touched hers. What was I thinking when I started it?

At the moment, all I thought about was how badly I wanted my mouth on hers, how I wanted to feel her plump lips against mine because I had to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Not only should I not have kissed her, but I definitely should not have touched her between her legs. That in itself was crossing a line.

The whole situation was wrong and super unprofessional.

Well, so much for calming myself down; seeing how the situation I desperately need to block from my head is all I can think about. My mind needs to be taken off of it, but since I’m doing such a poor job, I need someone else to do it for me.

There is no way I am calling my mother right now. How would I explain to my mother that I kissed my patient and probably would have done more if I hadn’t heard that laughter in the hall?

Thank God someone was out there, causing me to return to my senses. If not, I would have been in deeper shit than I probably already am right now.

Another shitty thing? The woman laughing out in the hall was Scarlet. Not only did the noises from out there stop me, but knowing she was behind my door made me feel guilty.

Scarlet is the woman I was supposed to chase. She was supposed to be the woman I was kissing.

If calling my mother or sister isn’t a viable option, I have no choice but to call Myles. It’s not like the man doesn’t give sound advice. I mean, he learned it from my mother, after all. But it’s Myles. I already know that he will freak the fuck out when I tell him.

I search for my phone because when I entered the room in my freak out, I had tossed everything on my bed in a panic, including said phone. Picking it up off the comforter, I glance at the time. He is still working, I’m sure. He may still be in a meeting, so I shoot him a quick text.

Hey man. Call me when you get a chance.

A minute passes with my heart still rapidly racing to where I’m afraid it may break free from my body and fall to the carpet. This is the longest minute ever. It feels like an hour before I see those three little dots and his response pops up.

I’m in a meeting but can call you after. Is everything alright?

Honestly? I’m kind of freaking out right now.

Why? What the hell happened?

My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I debate whether to type it out or wait until he is on the phone. Clenching my teeth together, I exhale loudly and type three words because I’m not sure I can say them verbally.

The three words are slowly typed, and I stare at the letters. The text cursor blinks at a rhythmic pace. In a panic, I press the delete button and watch as the words vanish. I take a few more seconds to find the courage to retype them and tap send before I can talk myself out of it.

I kissed her.

Dammit, Leo! I thought something was seriously wrong! You kissed her! Why the hell are you freaking out?

Wait . . . did she hate it? Did it make things awkward between the two of you already?

Or was it the opposite? Did she fall madly in love with you after one kiss and demand you marry her?