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Greer needs to be involved in sharing all that with him too. It’s not just my “secret” anymore. Do we tell him together?
My stomach drops at the thought of him being angry. Which he has every right to be. I totally bungled this situation. I realize now I should’ve been upfront with George from the start. I just didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. My intentions have always been good when it comes to Greer.
And then she asked me to kiss her, and next thing I knew, she was coming on my dick.
I slide a hand into my left pocket. Key and fob are still there. I know in my gut it’s the right move. But was it right to cross this line in the first place?
Only if I do right by Greer.
Only if this works out.
I’m scared as hell that I’m not capable of that kind of commitment. That vulnerability. But I’m willing to try.
Pushing open the glass door, I quickly scan the trading floor. It’s only a little after six. Luckily George is nowhere to be seen. But then my gaze catches on a spot of color in the corner that stands out in a sea of grey and black.
Greer, in jeans and a peach-pink Drury Lane T-shirt.
My stomach does a backflip. Heart takes off at a sprint. She looks so damn pretty as she fusses over her cart of muffins. Hair held back by this white headband thing with a knot in the middle that would probably look ridiculous on anyone but her.
She hands a breakfast sandwich to a woman from Foreign Exchange. No one else is in line yet.
Greer’s brown eyes catch on mine. She smiles. Everything inside me lifts. I’m vaguely aware of the burn of exhaustion in my eyes and legs, but above that—beyond it—I’m all energy. My thoughts move fast. Feet move faster. I wanted to play it cool, but fuck that.
“You’re early.” I’m standing a little too close to her, but I can’t help it. My skin tightens as I inhale her scent.
How the hell am I going to wait a whole damn day to have her again?
She tilts her head. “You’d be proud of me. Last week I told Dustin if he keeps forgetting to load the cart in the mornings, he’s out. Not only has he been loading the cart, he’s also shown up early. Frees up some of my time in the morning so I can actually, you know, shower and stuff.”
I look around. The floor is still mostly empty. No one is within earshot.
Removing the fob and key from my pocket, I lean in closer. “Shower at my place tomorrow morning.”
She blinks. “Pardon?”
“Hold out your hand.”
“Brooks—”
“Do as I say, Greer.”
Her lips twitch. “Where do you get the energy to be so bossy before you have your coffee?”
“I saw you,” I reply crisply. “Now hold out your hand.”
Laughing, she offers me her palm. “Happy?”
“I will be when I come home to you tonight.” I drop the key and fob into her hand. “Fob is for the front door to my building and the elevator. Key is for my condo deadbolt. I’m in The Tower on West Trade. Eighteenth floor.”
She stares at the items in question. Then at me. Her eyes glisten, smile broadens.
My heart roars. She’s happy.
Thank God, she’s happy.
“Brooks,” she whispers. “This is—wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll sleep at my place tonight. Bring enough stuff to stay the next night too.”
She blinks again. “Seriously?”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Just kidding. I’ll take those back—”
“Don’t you dare!” She giggles, yanking her hand out of my grasp. “Fine, fine! I’ll come over tonight. And maybe tomorrow too, but only if you shower with me.”
I bite back a groan. Balling my hand into a fist, I shove it back inside my empty pocket to keep from touching her. “Deal. My doorman is expecting you.”
“You said you’re on the eighteenth floor. What’s your unit number?”
“I’m the only unit on that floor.”
She raises a brow. “No shit.”
“I was thinking I’d order in some sushi for dinner. Do you like O-Ku?” It’s my favorite Asian spot in town.
“God, you’re bougie. And no, I don’t hate your expensive taste. Just like I don’t hate O-Ku. Sounds great. What can I bring?”
My eyes flick to her mouth. “Just your willingness to try new things.”
“Great. I’ll bring some chocolate too. Speaking of.” She ducks down to scoop some ice into a cup of what appears to be iced coffee. “I already put your usual on your desk. One triple chocolate muffin. No, you absolutely cannot pay me. And here’s your coffee. I added an extra shot of espresso, just in case.”
An invisible hand grips my lungs and squeezes. “Just in case what?”
Her brown eyes are soft when they catch on mine again. “You had trouble sleeping.”
