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My eyes widened, and I gasped, looking back at the screen. “Oh my god.” And here I thought I was just inventing excuses to be at eye level with Damian’s junk.
“You’ve gotta change it.” He shook his head, turning back to his office. “Lives are at stake. Everything could crumble if you choose that blue.”
I narrowed my eyes at his retreating figure. “Are you serious?”
I caught the flash of his shit-eating grin before he closed his door on me. “Deadly.”
I bit back a smile as I swiveled back to my desk. Clearly that had not worked as planned. Though what was I hoping for? That he’d pin me to my desk and press those soft lips to mine again?
Actually, yes. That was exactly what I was hoping for.
The whiff of a normal interaction with him felt like the warmest blanket after a frigid winter stroll. I drew a deep breath, noting my rapid heartbeat, the goosebumps on my forearms, the overwhelming relief that pooled inside me.
I whiled away the rest of the morning, hanging onto that one thread of normalcy. Damian didn’t emerge, and I could think of nothing else pressing enough to pester him about. When he opened his door before lunchtime, I popped to my feet, ready to somehow bump into him and coax something more from him. He was looking at papers in his hand again, and I used his moment of distraction to step in front of him. His hip brushed my backside and I turned abruptly.
“Oh, my goodness,” I said, maybe a little too eagerly.
He stepped aside. “Sorry, I—”
“No, no. My fault. My big ol’ behind just got in the way.” What was I doing? I was ten seconds away from brushing my breasts across his arm, only to sayOh, lordy, these tatas got loose again!I was looking desperate.
Damian didn’t respond; he only offered something resembling a pained grimace and headed down the hallway. My shoulders sank. I so badly wanted to replicate Monday evening, even as I knew that replicating Monday evening was the worst idea of my entire life.
I hated this conflicting vortex as much as I loved it. Which just started the whole dang cycle over again.
Lunch came and went with my boring deli sandwich and four ounces of cheese puffs. It was my attempt to balance extravagant meals out on the town with figure-friendly food choices. But once I’d eaten everything, I was leftwaitingagain. For some glimpse of Damian. For any acknowledgement that what had happened in his penthouse was real. For a sign that maybe he hadn’t already moved on and forgotten about his brief attraction to me.
It was driving me crazy. Pushing me to new heights—or maybe depths—of desperation. When he finally waltzed back down the hallway later that afternoon, far too many hours after lunch, I had to look away. The way my heart seized just from seeing him felt like a warning. I was already in too deep…and we hadn’t even started.
“Jessa,” he said, his bored rumble sending heat straight to my core, “these are for you.”
He had a folder in his hand, which I took from him—and promptly dropped.
“Oh, mother cluck it,” I muttered.
“It’s fine,” he said, bending to pick them up just as I leaned forward. Our heads bumped, and a giggle erupted out of me. I wasn’t eventryingto be awkward; it just came so easily to me.
“Sorry.” I rubbed at my head. He quickly collected the papers, sizing me up before he handed them over.
“Can you come into my office for a second?” he asked.
My heart rate picked up. “What for?”
His jaw flexed. “Just want to chat.”
Anxieties spiked as I nodded, following him into the office. He shut the door gently behind him, his gaze stuck to the floor.
“Is everything okay?” I nearly whispered, afraid of what might be on the other end of this conversation. Maybe he’d had second thoughts—possibly third and fourth thoughts—about what had gone down in his penthouse. Maybe he’d be forcing me to put in my two weeks’ notice right here and now. Oh lord, was I facing termination because I’d run out of the penthouse? That didn’t even seem possible—but given all the other surprise shit attacks in my life, I didn’t feel confident.
He still hadn’t let go of the doorknob, seeming lost in thought. Then his green gaze traveled up my body, finally resting on my eyes. My heart flung itself at my rib cage, over and over again, intent on escaping.
“I just want to clear the air.” He straightened his back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I made things weird, and I’m sorry.”
Relief flooded me, and I almost collapsed. I pressed a hand to my forehead—you’re fine, he’s apologizing, this is a pleasant surprise—and then popped on a breezy grin. “Nothing to be sorry for.” After all, he’d made my life just by revealing that he was attracted to me. That he actuallywantedme. I felt like I could die happy now. Except I wanted so much more from him before that time came.
“I think I have too much on my plate these days,” he said, his gaze back on the ground. “And maybe it’s making me a little…blind.”
“Blind?”
