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ChapterFive
AVERY
“I’m going to miss the plane!” I shouted as I shoved open the door to my apartment, causing it to slam into the wall. I darted down the hall to my bedroom. “I haven’t even packed! He is so going to fire me!”
“Where have you been?” Brielle jumped up from the couch and chased me into my room where I practically dove into my closet to grab my suitcase. But it wasn’t there. “What the hell?” I gasped as I dropped to my knees to dig around, hoping it would magically appear.
“My cousin Rylee called, and I was telling her about my job—”
“You mean you were obsessing over your boss and why he hasn’t thrown you down on his desk and devoured you.”
I leaned out of the closet to toss her a dirty look before returning to my search. “Where the hell did I put my freaking suitcase?”
“Relax, girl,” Brielle advised with a chuckle as she tapped my shoulder. “When you weren’t home on time, I figured you’d need help, so I packed your suitcase.”
Her words sent a wave of relief through me, and I jumped to my feet, throwing my arms around her in a big hug. “I love you,” I sighed, then smacked a kiss on her cheek.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, but I could hear the smile in her voice. “Keep it in your pants, Av. I don’t swing that way.”
Stepping back, I winked at her, then gestured to my body. “Yeah, but if you did, you’d be all over this.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Brie laughed and handed me a stack of clothing she’d picked up from the bed. “Go change. I’ll stay out here to avoid temptation.”
I giggled and hurried into my bathroom to put on the outfit she’d picked out. The khaki capris made my ass look awesome and when I paired them with wedge heels, my legs looked much longer. The blue, sleeveless blouse was comfortably loose, but the silky material was clingy enough to subtly emphasize my chest and show off a bit of cleavage from the V-neck.
Gabe always told me I could go casual when we traveled, but I kept it more business casual to remind me that it was a work trip. Not a getaway with the sexiest man I’d ever met in my life. It had nothing to do with the fact that shorts and a T-shirt weren’t exactly alluring attire. And definitely nothing to do with the fact that after working with Gabe for three months, he hadn’t made a single move on me, despite the growing sexual tension between us.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
As I stared at myself in the mirror while running a brush through my hair, I knew I had to be honest with myself. How I dressed, the way I moved, the subtle innuendos I used, and so many other things…they were all an attempt to push Gabe past his control so he would finally succumb to our attraction. Giving me the excuse I needed to do the same.
Considering his lack of action during our time working together, I might have thought the chemistry was one-sided if I hadn’t seen the desire in his eyes whenever we touched or were in close proximity to each other. Sometimes I’d wondered if he’d orchestrated the situation, attempting to catch me alone in a small space, like the copy room, so he could crowd me against the wall and kiss me like he was starving for my lips. But despite the hunger burning in his brown eyes, he never did more than run the pad of his finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake and another pair of damp panties.
When we’d danced at a few of the formal events we attended, I’d felt Gabe’s reaction to me when brushed up against me. I’d been sure he would finally give in at the end of the song and try to convince me to go to a hotel where he could ravish me. However, he simply put his hand on my lower back, sending a shiver up my spine that made his fingers flex once, and guided me back to our table. Truth be told, I wore skimpier (without crossing the line into slutty) dresses every time. Either blue-balls was a myth, or Gabe had steel control. I was confident he wasn’t relieving his stress with anyone else because not only did we spend the majority of our time together, I’d never seen him glance twice at another woman. He barely seemed to notice them at all.
On the three business trips we’d taken, I’d thought for sure that my dinner attire and come hither looks would break him. I’d been unable to sleep, sure that at any moment, he would knock on my door and seduce me into a night of hot, sweaty sex. It never happened—much to my irritation.
Instead of trying to get me out of my clothes and into his bed, when we spent one-on-one time together, he made an effort to learn everything about me and never shied away from answering my questions for him. Sometimes, it felt like the “getting to know you” part of dating.
He’d also scared away any man who came near me, yet he never tried to claim me for his own. It was incredibly frustrating.
I didn’t understand what his endgame was, but I’d decided a couple of weeks ago that we needed to let go for one night, to work each other out of our systems, then we could go back to being professional without the ever-present tension between us. I didn’t have the courage to instigate it, though, so I tried to hint that I would be open to his physical attentions.
However, I’d told Gabe I wanted to keep things professional, and the jerk was respecting my wishes. Which only added to his appeal, further driving me insane with repressed lust and…other feelings that I wasn’t willing to examine.
* * *
Once I was dressed, my makeup refreshed, and my hair brushed in loose curls hanging around my shoulders, I left the bathroom and swiftly made my way to the front door. If I could get a ride share to my apartment building in the next two minutes, I would make it to the airport with time to spare. Of course, the one time his private jet was unavailable, I was running late.
Brielle was waiting there and she handed me my purse, phone, and carry-on. “I already called for a car. Have fun!” Her smile suddenly turned wicked. “Do everything I wouldn’t do and let me live vicariously through you.”
I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t one of your smutty romance novels, Brie.”
My best friend had grown up with parents who were disgustingly in love, and Brielle said she wanted what they had, and no one had ever measured up enough for her to even go on a date. I couldn’t tease her because once I heard her parent’s story and met them, it was hard to deny that romances like the ones in her books existed. But hoping for that kind of fairytale would end in disappointment, so I kept my head out of the clouds.
She snorted. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
I snickered and shook my head, then kissed her cheek and hot-footed it to the front door of our building to meet my car.
