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“Looks like it’s going to be a long ride.”
I roll my eyes. Is he always like this with the innuendos?
I wonder briefly what floor he’s on, but don’t bother asking. If I’m pretending I’m not interested…err, I mean, if I’m not interested, no sense in giving off the impression I care.
“What do you do, Emilia?” he asks as the doors slide open at the next floor and neither of us get out.
Small talk, then. Okay, I can handle that.
“I’m a writer.”
He looks genuinely intrigued. “What kind of writer?” The doors close again.
“I write romance.” Then I wait. It’s inevitable.
Now, a salacious grin crosses those perfect lips. Lips which are still burning my hand from their touch.
“Like sexy romance?”
And there it is, folks.
Every. Fucking. Time.
I can’t tell anyone I’m a romance writer without them immediately thinking I write porn or some shit. I mean…I do like it hot. Naughty. Filthy, even.
But people don’t seem to see that it’s more than that.
At the heart of it, it’s about love.
Ironic, though, that I’ve never experienced that for myself.
“Yes, Evan,” I reply, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice. His smile is kind of contagious like that. “Sexy romance.”
I think he’s about to say something else, something stupid and immature like ‘Let me know if you need help with any research’ or some shit.
But instead, when the elevator stops at the next floor—my floor—and the doors slide open, Evan gives me a wink and a grin, and says, “This is me,” then steps off the elevator.
Just like that. Now I’m the one left hanging, wanting more? How did he flip the script on me so fast?
I’m torn. Do I get off here at my floor? Maybe find out which apartment is his?
Or do I keep it to myself that we’re closer neighbors than I realized and ride my ass on down to Erin’s floor?
The elevator makes the decision for me as the doors slide shut again.
But then I do something that shocks even me.
I jab the button to open the doors again, then step out of the elevator myself.
Fuck.
I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.
I know this guy is all wrong for me.
But at the same time, something about him screams oh-so-right.
It’s crazy. I don’t shy away from anything or anyone. But somehow, I instinctively know Evan isn?
