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“Well, despite a rather disturbing evening, I actually had a good time,” Damien says as he walks me to my door. I told him I could get up to my apartment on my own, but he insisted.
“Speak for yourself,” I mutter as I dig my keys out of my purse.
“Oh, come on, Charlotte—it wasn’t that bad. And I do feel like this definitely helped me schmooze a bit for this promotion I’ll be up for.”
Sighing, I turn away from my apartment door and lean my back up against it. “That’s good. I’m happy for you. And I guess it was…entertaining,” I say through a smile.
“Definitely.”
“And it was nice to eat a meal that wasn’t from a restaurant.”
“And?” he asks as if there’s something else I’m supposed to be acknowledging right now.
“And?”
He rolls his eyes. “And your companion wasn’t so bad now, was he?” He lifts his hand and trails a finger down the length of my arm, leaving goosebumps along my skin.
And there’s something about that touch that has me reeling with familiarity. This isn’t the first time Damien has touched me, but this is the first time that I’m questioning if it’s happened before.
“Yeah, my date wasn’t so bad.”
“Boyfriend,” he corrects me with a finger in the air. “But in all honesty, Char, I really appreciate you agreeing to do this.” Staring down at the ground now, he shakes his head. “I still can’t believe that you did, sometimes.”
The vulnerability he’s showing me has my defenses sliding down rapidly. “I can’t believe it either.”
His eyes lift and catch mine, and then he’s taking a step closer to me. “This is crazy, right?”
“What’s crazy?” The pounding of my heart from his proximity sends me back further into my door.
“You. Me. Being…friends.” Another step closer.
“Well, friend is a really strong word.”
He smirks, the lift of his lips forcing my eyes to drop down to the sight. “Come on. You know you have to be feeling what I’m feeling, right?” His hand lands on my bicep this time, the warmth of his palm moving up and down my skin.
I swallow hard. There’s no way Damien has sensed my attraction toward him. I’ve been so careful to hide my glances, made sure to daydream in private, and wear pasties to cover up my hard nipples when he’s around… “What are you feeling?”
His gaze narrows. “I don’t know…relief? Excitement? Like life just got interesting for once?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Life got a lot more interesting once you came back around, for sure. “Why relief though?”
He extracts his hand from my arm and runs it through his hair. “Because the energy it took to fight you on everything, hate you when I didn’t want to—that was fucking exhausting.”
I exhale loudly. “Wow.” Wait—he didn’t want to hate me?
“And now, being near you doesn’t feel energy-sucking anymore. It just feels…” I feel like I’m waiting on pins and needles for him to finish, but the ping of a text message notification interrupts his words and breaks our heated stare.
“I’m sorry.” Rummaging through my purse while my body temperature rages like an inferno, I see a text from Penelope asking how tonight went. Oh boy, is she going to love this story. “It’s just Penelope.”
Damien nods and takes a step back, giving me space that I’m not sure I want anymore. What the hell is happening? “No problem. I should get going anyway.” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Uh, thanks again, Char. I’ll call you later.”
“Yeah. Okay. Bye, Damien.” I watch him walk down the hall, taking one last mental picture of his ass, and then I’m shaking off the thought and unlocking my door.
My brain can only handle so much chaos at once, and I think tonight I hit my capacity. Between the swingers and Damien’s shift in how he looked at me, the way in which he touched me and claimed me in front of his co-workers—well, my brain is either going to turn to mush, or I’m going to need therapy to deal with everything I’m feeling. Let’s be honest though—It’ll probably end up being a little bit of both.
