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“Live, Love, Laugh, Repeat,” he read aloud. The words were staggered in black across the white nail polish. “I like it.”
“Do you want me to bring you a catalog next time?” The laughter lacing her tone was a little shaky, and he wondered if his touch made her nervous or if she was still put out with him.
“Catalog?” he said, bewildered. He looked up from her nails and met her gaze, the green of her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. His hand tightened on hers, and he started to lean in.
“For the nails. It’s a press-on thing.” Her words were nearly breathless, and he was sure she’d leaned into him, too, her mouth opening slightly.
Oliver reached up, his fingers itching to tangle in her loose, dark hair . . .
“Whoa, am I interrupting something?” an amused voice asked from the doorway.
Oliver clenched his fist as his gaze swung to Best lounging in the doorway, grinning. Oliver wanted to drag him outside and knock that smirk off his face, but Eve nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Actually, I forgot I had plans tonight, and I’m already late,” Eve said, turning off and closing up her laptop. She put it away before swinging the laptop bag over her shoulder. “I’ll post the pictures tomorrow. If you can take photos and videos throughout the week and upload them to the program page, that would be great. And if you have any trouble with posting media, let me know and I’ll be in touch. But don’t post more than five times a day, unless it’s important.”
“Evelyn, wait.” Oliver stood up and tried to reach for her, but she eluded him, her color high. She was out of reach and out the door before he could stop her.
Oliver glared at Best. “Has anyone ever told you that you have shit timing?”
“What? You should be thanking me,” Best said.
“And why is that?”
“Because I just saved you from an agonizing death at the hands of General Reynolds. If he found out you were making a move on his daughter . . . ”
Oliver knew what he meant. If he got involved with Evelyn, he could kiss his career and his dick good-bye.
Chapter Five
ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Eve was curled up on the couch watching The Walking Dead, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Since last night, all she’d been able to do was replay that mo
ment with Oliver, the one where he’d been two seconds away from planting those delicious-looking lips on hers. His eyelids had been heavy, already starting to close, and that hand had been coming up to her face, probably to cup it. Both had sent her pulse racing so fast she’d actually been a little dizzy.
Eve flopped onto her side, groaning. Her cat, Matilda, who’d been comfortably laying across her lap, meowed and stood up, her back arching as she stretched.
“Sorry, babe, but mommy’s having a moment over here,” Eve said.
Matilda’s yellow eyes were unsympathetic as she twitched her fluffy black tail.
Eve reached out to rub Matilda’s ears, attempting to pacify her. As the cat leaned into her ministrations and purred loudly, Eve’s mind drifted back to Oliver. Last night, when he’d called her out for being rude, she’d been horrified that he’d been right. She had been trying to put some distance between them, and her best defense was a “brick wall of superiority”—as her freshman science partner had told her once. Like her father, she had the ability to lead people, but it didn’t always make her a fan favorite.
Oliver had known what she was doing and yet, he’d just accepted her apology and moved on. Hell, if Best hadn’t walked in, he would have kissed her.
And there was not a doubt in her mind that she would have let him.
She knew he wasn’t right for her, even for a brief fling, but she also couldn’t deny that she wanted him.
Bad.
And she hated it. Obsessing over a guy was something she’d thought she’d outgrown, yet here she was, unable to get the loaded question out of her head . . .
What would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted?
Their kiss could have been a dud, and working with him would have become awkward as ass until they got over it and realized they’d dodged a bullet.
Somehow she doubted it, though. Just Oliver holding her hand was enough to light her up. She’d spent the better part of last night imagining his lips and hands all over her body, driving her crazy until she exploded.
Then she’d started worrying about what would happen after the mind-blowing sex—sex that was so amazing, she actually threw out her vibrator and locked him in her closet, only to take him out whenever she wanted him.
