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Lookie here, Mr. Tyler, a woman you CAN’T have.
Bet he’s never seen the day…
I may not be the caliber of woman he’s used to, but I’m beautiful in my own right and I will own that shit all day long. I smile at my reflection, ignoring the swarm of anxious butterflies flapping so wildly in the pit of my stomach I feel like I might take flight at any moment.
Grabbing my clutch purse from the counter, I look around my small, one bedroom condo, making sure I’m not forgetting anything. My house may not be much to someone like Treyton, but to me, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. What it lacks in size it makes up for in finishes. Housed in an old industrial building, it has the most amazing floor to ceiling windows that have a pretty decent view of the city. And the rooftop deck and bar in the basement, are definitely an added bonus. Not to mention, as a single woman living in L.A., having front lobby assistants, my own parking spot, and controlled access to the building, are about the best things you can find.
Tugging open the door, I pull it closed behind me, my hands shaking slightly as I work to secure the dead bolt.
I hate that I’m nervous.
I shouldn’t be nervous.
I’m almost thirty years old. I don’t get nervous very often anymore.
But no matter how much I tell myself not to be, the fact of the matter still remains that I am. I can’t change it. Trust me, I’ve been trying since my eyes slid open this morning.
I just need to get through this evening unscathed, then this ordeal will be behind me and I can smile my way all the way to the bank. Thank you, Mr. Tyler.
With a renewed sense of determination, I square my shoulders and step onto the elevator. Being on the fourth floor, it’s a short trip down, which I normally like, but tonight I find myself wishing I was all the way up on the tenth floor so I had more time to mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to face.
When the doors slide open and my eyes land on a pair of broad shoulders clad in a charcoal colored suit, I’m pretty sure I forget how to breathe. I don’t know why, but I expected someone like Treyton to show up wearing ripped jeans and an old tee, not dressed to kill in a tailor made, designer suit that makes him look more like a god than an actual man. Then again, I didn’t actually expect someone like him to walk into my building at all. Yet, here he is.
I force my gaze upward, sucking in a sharp breath when my eyes land on his. He’s freshly shaved, his unruly locks combed back away from his face, putting his brilliant eyes on full display.
I’m so busy gawking and not moving that the elevator doors begin to slide closed again with me still inside. Just before they meet in the middle, Treyton’s arm shoots in between them, causing them to jut back open.
“Think maybe you’ll get off the elevator sometime tonight?” He hits me with an amused smile and I swear I feel the effects of it everywhere.
No matter how much I tell myself to be unaffected, the truth of the matter is, Iamaffected. Honestly, who wouldn’t be in my shoes?
But that doesn’t mean I’m blinded by who he is or the fact that he’s clearly after something. I just haven’t figured out what yet. Either way, I’m not letting my guard down. I’m going to get in, get out, and never have to see this man again as long as I live, God willing.
“Let’s get this over with.” I shove past him, ignoring the blatant stares of the lobby staff.
Yeah, yeah, it’s Treyton Tyler. Big freaking deal,I want to say. But I have to remember that in the real world, seeing someone like Treyton out in public is like the best thing since sliced bread.
If only I shared that enthusiasm.
I hear Treyton chuckle behind me as he moves to catch up to me just in time to tug the entry door open for me. I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt at chivalry and step out into the cool evening air, wishing I had thought to bring a sweater. The March temperatures are not cold but definitely not warm, especially into the evening and night hours.
“You cold?” Treyton steps up next to me.
“If you offer me your jacket, I swear I’m going to turn around and go right back inside.”
“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He grins, clearly amused. “I thought most women liked that sort of thing.”
“Well, I’m not most women. Let’s be really clear. This isnota date. I have zero interest in you, as I’m sure you have even less interest in me. So whatever your reasoning for pushing me into this is, don’t pretend like you actually give a shit if I’m cold.”
“I’m starting to get the impression you don’t like me very much. Which is kind of confusing considering you don’t even know me.” He turns, positioning himself in front of me.
“I don’t have to know you, I know your type.” I look him right in the eye as I say it.
“I think that’s a little unfair, isn’t it?”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think maybe I actually hurt his feelings. Oh, who am I kidding? LikeIcould actually hurthisfeelings.
“I’ve seen the tabloids to know enough.”
