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Brady cringes and rubs his palm along the back of his neck. “Say something.”

I open my mouth and close it. Open it again. Close it. Finally, I manage to speak. “You really thought of me that whole time?”

God, why does my stomach flip over when I think about the fact that Brady Banks has been thinking about me,obsessingif his words are to be believed, ever since we slept together last year?

He gives me a deadpan look. “Enough that my friends have been relentlessly mocking me for over six months.”

I bite my lip to stop my smile from emerging, but it doesn’t work. I never thought I would have earned a mention to anyone in Brady’s life after we were together. After all, he probably did that kind of thing all the time with women much hotter and more fulfilling. He gave off that vibe and made it clear he wanted to keep things casual before we left for the hotel. Which is what made him perfect for a rebound lay in my eyes.

I wasn’t going to be the stupid girl who attached feelings to the two of us being physical together, but it’s clear to me now that Brady felt that insane connection between us too.

Which feels amazing.

But isn’t.

Because I work for him now. And there’s a little boy involved. And I am not ready to risk my heart for another man yet.

“I figured you didn’t think of me even once after our night together.” I hold his gaze.

He shakes his head. “I wish that were true.”

We stand in silence, staring at each other for a few moments.

“Did you think of me after that night?” His question comes out with an air of vulnerability I haven’t heard from him before, and it’s enough that I can’t lie to him, no matter the cost.

“All the time.”

The air fills with thick tension. It’s one thing to have slept with Brady, but it’s another for both of us to admit that there are lingering feelings and we’re still attracted to one another.

“Why wouldn’t you give me your number that night?” he asks.

The heat building in my body chills with his question and the reminder of why I was in the headspace to sleep with a stranger in the first place.

“I had my reasons.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Which were?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

A look of complete disappointment flashes across his face. “Did you not enjoy it?”

I laugh because that’s the furthest from the truth. “I did.”

His eyes widen and he pushes a hand through his hair. “That’s hardly a ringing endorsement.”

Truth is, it was the best sex of my life, but I don’t want to admit that to him. He’s my boss, and no matter what, we can’t cross that line again. Besides, we shouldn’t be discussing this. Reliving those moments won’t help keep them in the past. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Jesus.” He’s genuinely despondent. “I know I’d had a little bit to drink that night, but I wasn’t drunk. Is that why you didn’t give me your number? Because it was that bad for you?”

“Brady—”

“Were you faking it every time you came? I swear if we did it again, I’d make you come twenty times but just with my mouth and hands.”

My mouth drops open.

“I didn’t mean it to come out vulgar like that. Fuck.” He grips his hair. “I just meant that I could make it good for you. I tried to last time, but maybe I was being selfish from the drinks I had?”

I touch his shoulder. Little electric pulses travel up my arm. “Listen—”

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