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Thirty more minutes. Then I could take my laptop to my favorite café and write. I hadn’t forgotten about the February deadline, but I’d been so distracted I hadn’t had time to dwell on it.
I caught a flash of gray out of the corner of my eye. I looked up, and the air died in my lungs.
Kai. He walked in like he owned the place, which, as a managing committee member, he kind of did.
No jacket, no tie, only a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and suspenders running crisp lines down to a pair of perfectly tailored charcoal pants. He was back to his usual polished self, except for the tiny frown marring his forehead.
I forced oxygen past the knot in my chest.
We hadn’t talked or seen each other since our kiss, and I’d underestimated the impact his presence would have on me. If I hadn’t stopped moving altogether when he entered, I would’ve accidentally knocked one of the three-hundred-dollar Baccarat glasses to the ground.
Our eyes connected. A different, heavier silence fell over us, the kind woven from forbidden memories and unspoken words.
Kai reached the bar and took the seat across from me; I poured a glass of scotch and pushed it toward him without a word.
He brought it to his lips, his throat working with a sexy swallow.
I didn’t have other customers to distract me, so I just watched him, lazy tendrils of desire curling in my stomach even as the silence expanded between us.
He set the glass down, and we observed each other warily like we were gauging the other’s expression for the right thing to say.
“Why aren’t you in London?” I finally asked after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. “For Thanksgiving.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, melting some of the tension. “The British don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
Right.
“Besides…” The frown reappeared for a split second between his brows. “I have a work crisis to deal with.”
“Over a holiday weekend?”
“Crises are unaccommodating that way. They have little respect for human schedules.” Amusement gilded his reply.
“So you’re just going to work the entire weekend? That’s so depressing.” A pang hit my chest when I pictured Kai pulling all-nighters at his computer while everyone else celebrated with their families.
I shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He earned more in a day than most people earned in a year, but he was still human. Everyone deserved time off.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I enjoy my job.” He rubbed a thumb over the rim of his glass. “And you? How are you spending the holidays?”
“Writing, shopping, and preparing for Christmasbirthdaynewyearpalooza in February. I know, it’s a mouthful,” I said when his mouth quirked again. “But we’re too lazy to come up with a better name.” I hesitated, then added, “So we’ll both be in the city this weekend.”
I wasn’t sure why it mattered. It wasn’t like we were going to invite each other over to our houses for four days of food, sex, and shopping. Right?
Kai gave a slow shake of his head. “I have a red-eye flight to San Francisco tonight,” he said. “Part of the work crisis management.”
“Oh.” Disappointment sank like a weight in my stomach.
“Have you visited the library again?” He abruptly switched topics. “For your writing?”
“Not yet.” It reminded me too much of him. Even if it weren’t so quiet, I doubted I could write in there. “Maybe one day.”
“I see.” This time, he was the one who looked disappointed.
Silence lapsed again, punctuated by the hum of the heater. God, this was torture. Why couldn’t I simply say what I wanted to?
Because it’s a bad idea. Because it’s against the rules. Because—
I get it. Shut up.
