AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And here it comes.
My stupid brain tells me he’s about to ask all the usual questions.
Why are you so weird?
Why do you look so frightened?
But I hold onto my dazed feeling for just another second and nod.
“You work on live code release alone?”
His question catches me off guard. I’d hoped he would ask something other than the usual.
I still for a second, letting the relief sink in.
Maybe he doesn’t find me weird after all, a small voice in my head whispers.
He looks at me patiently, his brown eyes soft, so different from all the pictures of him I’ve seen over the years.
I don’t have time to frame a reply to his unexpected question, so I give him my honest thoughts. “I think… I enjoy the feeling of working under pressure and stress.”
“Did you just say you like to work under stress?” One of his perfectly shaped eyebrows arch, and a playful smile appears on his lips.
Crab, so much for speaking my mind.
“I-I mean, it reminds me of my hackathon days…at the university.”
“Aha, got it. You’re an adrenaline junkie.”
“What?” My eyes pop out, and I gulp so loud that I’m sure he heard it. “No. Not at all. I’m not an adrenaline junkie. In fact, I’m everything minus an adrenaline junkie.” I’m just blabbering now.
“Relax, Ms. Marlin, I know what you mean.” His lips curl into a smile, and I swoon over the dimple that appears on his left cheek once again.
How can someone be so dashing?
His skin is bright, and the light stubble of facial hair makes him look like a model from a fashion magazine cover. He has a beautiful face—square jaw, pointy nose, full lips, captivating brown eyes, and long lashes.
He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit and a cherry-colored tie. The deep red fabric peeking between the lapels of his jacket steals my heart.
It’s the color of the flower that has given me its name.
My very first happy memory.
He rakes his hand through his hair—his perfect hair. Obsidian black, no strand out of place. How would it be to run my fingers through it?
W-what was that thought?
Sweet Sugar.
“Does your mind wander a lot, Ms. Marlin, or am I that boring?” Zander smirks, interrupting me from making a mental canvas of him.
Ship. How am I not quivering in my seat while brazenly eyeing my boss? Okay, I’m quivering, but not in the usual way.
Why does he give me a weird sense of comfort?
“Is it rare?” he asks, and I realize I’ve spoken the last words out loud.
I lower my gaze. What do I say to this?
