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Had I done too much? Probably. Mom always said I did.
“Thank you,” he murmured. Roughly, he cleared his throat and glanced at the coffee before looking at Emma. I folded my lips between my teeth as he set the sandwich down to stir sugar into his coffee.
I felt so fucking awkward. He might not even like breakfast sandwiches. And he might’ve already had lunch plans. And maybe it was his routine to make his own coffee, and I’d fucked everything up.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing as the words came out. I hadn’t really meant to say it. Slowly, he turned his head toward me.
“For what?”
“Messing up your routine,” I said, twisting my hands together. “I didn’t mean to—”
“What?” He turned fully toward me, forgetting about his coffee.
“If you made your own coffee,” I said, gesturing toward it. “Or breakfast, or whatever. Sorry if I overstepped.”
“You didn’t,” he laughed. “It’s usually a fight to get out the door every morning. This is the most peaceful morning we’ve had since…” He trailed off, his face falling. “A long time.”
Since before Meredith.
Right.
Perfect family. Perfect wife. Perfect life.
My mouth went dry as I nodded slightly. I moved around him, heading for the living room. He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“Thank you,” he said again. “Really, Rae. Thanks.” His dark eyes searched mine, and for one fleeting second, it felt like we were the only people in the entire world.
Then I blinked, and the moment was gone.
“I need to get dressed,” I rasped, pulling my wrist from his hold. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and straightened back to his full height. Had he always been that tall?
Stop.
I needed to stop noticing stupid shit about him.
So what, he was six-foot-something of pure DILF, but that wasn’t something I needed to notice. Or think about.
Jesus.
“Thanks for the breakfast,” he said again, gruffly. I barely dipped my chin in a nod and scurried from the kitchen, through the living room, and soared down the seemingly never-ending hallway to my room.
I slammed the door and pressed my back against it, letting my head fall back. Why was I like this? What was wrong with me?
I scrubbed both hands over my face, taking a deep breath. I just needed to do a quick yoga routine and clear my head. If nothing else, it would loosen all the muscles I just tensed while talking to Eli.
Before moving to the closet to grab my clothes for the day, I stopped by the nightstand to check my phone. My stomach dropped at the text that stared back at me.
Benji:
Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?
Maybe I shouldn’t have looked. I should’ve just ignored it so I could pretend I hadn’t seen this text for a bit longer. I’d just wanted to check Instagram. I hadn’t wanted to get asked out on a date.
I groaned as I dropped onto the bed, my phone still clutched tightly in my shaky hand. I contemplated just deleting the text and pretending like I hadn’t seen it. But I couldn't do that. That would be the biggest dick move in the world.
Was I even allowed to go out with him?
I cringed. Of course, I wasallowedto do it. I could do whatever I wanted. But Eli was technically my boss, right? Was I supposed to ask permission before agreeing to anything?
