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I’ve hardly had time to place my cup back on the table and he’s already comfortable in the chair.
“Um…”
“Just one cup?” He tilts his head to the side. “Until you finish yours.” He smiles, and something warm fill my insides.
I pull on my shirt cuffs and nod, looking away. The nervous hammering in my heart is familiar, but today, it’s beating to a foreign beat.
I sit back, and in nervousness, gulp the remaining coffee.
“Would you like a refill?” He cocks his head toward my now-empty cup.
Crab.
“N-no if that’s okay with you. Actually, I already had my one morning cup.” My hands hide under the table as I rub them over the denim of my jeans. “I…get anxious when I have too much caffeine.”
And isn’t that the understatement of the century?
“Excuse me.” Zander takes out his phone from his breast pocket. “Hello. I’m near the building. Can you postpone?”
My eyes widen. Is he postponing a meeting because of me?
Looking right back at me with a very serious face, he speaks into the phone, “Sixty minutes? Thanks.”
The call ends.
I shiver under his piercing gaze. “You didn’t…have to do that.”
“I’m asking for your sixty minutes, Ms. Marlin. I promise, not a second more.”
I nod, surprised to see he’s concerned about my time more than his.
“You were telling me about your coffee habits. So, only one cup, huh? You have good caffeine restraint, then. Most days, by the time I reach work, I’m on my third cup.”
“Three is too much. You can have anxiety and…insomnia.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize. I snap my lips together as he considers me with that piercing gaze. “I’m…sorry. I’m normally not so…opinionated. In fact, I’m never opinionated, and…definitely not so verbose.”
I clamp my mouth and eyes shut. I always have a hard time speaking, but with him, words are rolling out of my mouth like someone has possessed my tongue.
When I open my eyes, I find Zander staring at me. As our eyes meet, the now-familiar feverish feeling is back.
“You have a beautiful voice, and I like you verbose.”
The way his words are spiking my body temperature, I’ll certainly have to use the cold compress in my office.
I look away, not sure what to do. When I peek a glance at him, he’s staring at my hands on the table, which are busy tugging on the cuffs of my shirt. My grip on the fabric tightens.
He clears his throat, pulling my attention back to his face.
“You did great work yesterday. I’m really impressed.”
“Thanks.” My heart swells at his approval.
When I look away this time, it’s not because of the usual nervousness where I want to run away and hide from everything, but it’s a weird flutter in my heart that makes me almost dizzy, and something inside me wants this to continue.
Zander clears his throat once more.
I’m too distracted—with him, with the way I feel around him, with my newly found flutter.
“If you don’t mind, I’m curious about something,” he says, breaking the weird silence.
