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“I don’t know. Most of the time, those kinds of thoughts come from listening to other people’s opinions.”
“Have you ever felt that way? As if you weren’t good enough.”
“Most of my life.”
“How did you overcome it?”
“I changed the type of people I surrounded myself with.” I shrugged. “I met a person who told me I was good enough. And he kept doing it until I started to believe it myself.”
“Connor?”
I nodded.
“He’s your best friend.”
“He’s my family.”
She smiled and thumbed the rim of her glass. “How was he able to get close enough to you to the point that you trusted him? You seem very hard to get to know.”
“He was a relentless pain in the ass who didn’t take no for an answer. When I tried to push him away, he moved in closer. He didn’t give up on me, even when I gave up on myself.”
“A UB.”
“A what?”
“A universal blessing. It’s something Grams made up. It’s a person or thing that feels like a gift from the universe. Something that’s almost too good to be true. It’s the brightest of bright spots in someone’s life. A universal blessing. That’s what Connor is to you.”
Interesting concept from an interesting woman. “Something like that.”
“Maybe someday you’ll let me that close.”
I released a low chuckle. “Most people give up pretty early on.”
“Yeah, but I’m not most people.” She downed her wine and went to stand to her feet. As she did so, she stumbled a bit forward, and I reached across my desk to steady her.
“Careful,” I warned.
She giggled and repeated my words, looking down at my touch on her skin. “Careful,” she echoed.
My heart did a weird pulling thing.
That was odd.
I removed my hold from her, and she stood straight.
She looked at me as if she was trying to find answers about me to the questions she hadn’t even thought up yet.
She blinked and shook her head. “I’m clumsy sometimes.”
“It’s okay.”
“Jeff always said it was annoying.”
“Jeff’s an asshole.”
She looked at me, a bit stunned by my words.
I instantly regretted them, even if they were true. “Sorry,” I muttered.
“It’s okay.” She looked around and then leaned forward and began to whisper. “Between you and me, he’s kind of an asshole.”
I matched her level of volume. “The type with asshole tendencies?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just a big bologna-headed asshole.”
I smirked. “Bologna-headed. I’ll be adding that to my list of insults for individuals.”
“If you’re interested, I have an array of tacky names for jerks. Like fart-face fucker. Butthole bastard. Pimple-popper pain in the ass.”
I laughed. “All of those are ridiculous.”
“I’m the definition of ridiculous.”
“It works for you,” I whispered back after a long round of whispering.
“Why are you whispering?” she asked with her tone still quiet as a mouse.
“Because you are. Why are you whispering?” I questioned.
“Because I’m drunk, silly.” Her words made me smile. She tapped her finger against my lips. “When I’m sober, can you do more of this with your lips?”
“More of what?”
She stepped backward, and I missed the feeling of her finger against my mouth. I had an urge to suck on it slowly when it was there, so it was probably best she pulled it away.
She gestured toward her lips and created a big grin. “Smile. I like your smile.”
“I like yours more,” I confessed, and it felt extremely vulnerable for me to say.
“I’ll trade you some of mine if you trade me some of yours.”
You have no clue what you’re doing to me, woman, I thought to myself.
My mind couldn’t create words good enough to combat her comments, so I stood still, uncertain what to do with myself when I was in front of her. Thankfully, she was too intoxicated to notice my awkwardness.
“It was there,” she said, staring my way.
“What was?”
Her eyes flashed with emotions. “The truth was in her eyes,” she mentioned.
“Kelsey.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Stella.”
“I know. Hey, Beast?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you want to go drink more wine with me by the ocean and count the waves?” She glanced down at my desk, which was covered with paperwork. “Unless you’re busy.”
“I do have a lot of work I need to catch up on.”
She frowned. I hated it.
“Okay, well. You know where to find me if you need a break.” She headed out of the room, and I sat back down at my desk. The only issue was now my mind couldn’t stop thinking about her. Stella was at the forefront of every thought that swept through my mind.
It seemed as if she left my office a long time ago, yet when I headed out of the space to go find her, she was still in the kitchen filling up her glass of wine.
“I think I might need a break now,” I said, startling her, as she jumped a little, turning around to see me. When realization found her, she cheered and clapped her hands together before grabbing another glass for my wine. She poured it to the rim, a heavy pourer. Which probably explained her stumbling.
