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What I want to sayis shutthe fuck up. But I keep my cool and my composure for now.
He stares at me before yanking the chair out and sitting down.
“How is your offer, yoursponsorshipany better than what I already have?”
Time for what my dad calls“the hook, line, and got ’em.”
Ignoring my boiling blood, I make my pitch, emphasizing the fact that sponsorship with our company, Walker Tires, means extra protection by way of a dedicated team we use to shut down bad publicity caused by the rumor mill.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me the entire time, and I can’t tell if he’s genuinely intrigued by what we’re offering or if he’s really mocking me underneath his fake smile. It’s more like a knowing smile, and a cocky one at that.
When I finish, he remains silent, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair while drumming his fingers together in front of him.
The air in the room grows thick and awkward, making it hard tobreathe. Is it tension? Attraction?
I don’t know, but it’s filling the room and fast.
Ticktock. Ticktock.
There goes the stupid clock again. What's with that thing today? Beads of sweat break out across my forehead, and I feel one drip down the back of my neck. Fuck, it's not even hot in here.
I sit up straighter, not wanting him to see my discomfort. He’ll mock me or use it against me or something.
Just accept my damn offer and go!
I wish I could scream at him.
“Well?” I ask. “Let’s not waste time. I’m not a fan.” I probably just shot myself in the foot, but fuck it.
He chuckles.Fucking chuckles.
My skin feels like it's buzzing with energy, and I might explode at any second.
He stands and walks around the desk, stopping next to me. It happens so fast I don’t even register until he’s squatting down beside me, his face inches from mine.
I try not to hyperventilate by controlling my breathing, but it's fucking hard when he’s so close to me.
He moves even closer, and I feel the heat from his skin. I close my eyes for a second, my head spinning like I’m on aTilt-a-Whirl,the wind rushing through my hair at full speed.
Except there’s no wind.
Only intense heat blazing between us.
“Look at me, boss lady.”
My eyes pop open, the awful nickname like gas to a fire. I turn, and our mouths touch. It’s barely a graze, but it's enough for me to jerk back and putspacebetween us.
I want him to kiss me just as much as I want to slap him across the face. It’s like two conflicting forces fighting against one another.
“Don’t fucking call me that. Just give me your answer.” I push my chair back without a warning, the movement sudden and loud. It causes himto almost stumble, but he’s quick and lands on his feet.
When I stand, I move away from him. I need the distance. I can’t even think when he’s that close.
Dammit, why does he have to smell so good?
I don’t know what I’ll do if he puts his mouth that close to mine again. But it won’t be good.
I need him out of here before something happens. Once he accepts, I can deal with him from afar. Email workswhen it comes todiscussing marketingplans, right?
