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“I left my coat,” I said, glancing back at the now-closed door.
“You won’t need that where we’re going,” he said.
Sure enough, he pressed the up button. We weren’t leaving the building.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Ding.
“My office.”
The elevator doors slid open and he grabbed my hand again, pulling me inside. He worked in this building? I didn’t know that.
But when I turned to ask, he was standing close. All the air left my lungs. It wasn’t just his nearness, though. It was that intensity again—an intensity that I’d first noticed before I’d gone to get the lobster rolls. It hadn’t let up since.
Suddenly, his arms went around me, his hands pulling me against him. As our mouths met in a long, soul-searing kiss, I felt alive for the first time in years. Was this the feeling that had my friends giving up their virginity in high school? Not me, though. I’d never had a problem holding out.
But I’d never had this feeling before. Nothing like it.
The kiss had barely started when the elevator moved. We split apart, both of us seeming to realize at once that we hadn’t pressed any of the buttons. We were going down, the elevator probably having been summoned by someone on the first floor.
We were both facing forward by the time the doors slid open and a couple stepped in. I didn’t recognize them. If Jonah did, there was no indication. He simply gave them a nod and waited as the car crawled to the second floor.
Once the couple departed, Jonas leaned forward and pressed the “three” button. Then he stepped back and waited, not making another move on me. I felt embarrassingly disappointed at the lack of contact. I should be ashamed of myself. Not only had I been making out with a work colleague in an elevator, but I desperately wanted it to continue.
When the elevator doors finally slid open on the third floor, I was relieved. The pressure to kiss or not to kiss was resolved at that point. But one question remained. Where were we going? His office. He’d said that downstairs. His office was in this building?
He rushed off the elevator, and I followed, heading down a hallway. We kept going until we reached the very end, and once again, I found myself thinking about that kiss.
He had his keycard out as we approached and he waved it over the reader and waited until the click and beep indicated we were clear to enter. It made me wonder what Harley’s dad had done to the door to make it unlock without a key or passcode tonight.
“This is where I spend most of my life,” Jonah said once we were inside the office, door closed behind us.
I was once again battling disappointment that he hadn’t started kissing me immediately. Had I imagined the kiss in the elevator? That could have very well been one of my fantasies that just seemed incredibly realistic.
“I didn’t bring you up here to take advantage of you,” he said, turning to face me.
We were standing in the center of an open-plan office similar to the one downstairs. This one had fewer desks, though, and a lot more open space. There were also more seating areas with comfortable furniture and what looked like a pool table in the corner.
“You didn’t?” I crossed my arms over my chest. This was where I could flirt if I were a more experienced woman. I was as awkward as it came in situations like this. “Why did you bring me up here, then?”
“To help you with your test anxiety. Sit.”
He gestured toward a desk close by. It had a small Christmas tree on it, and I battled the urge to turn it on as I slid onto the chair in front of it. This little Christmas tree was the only decoration I saw among the otherwise minimalist décor.
“Pretend this is your desk at home,” he said as he moved to stand behind me. “Do you trust me?”
I nodded and stared at the dark tree. He was close. So close. I was surprised how much I craved his nearness when he stepped away from me.
“There’s a computer monitor in front of you,” he said.
I looked around. “No, there’s not.”
“Pretend,” he said. “Imagine it. I’m sure you have a good imagination.”
The baritone of his voice went straight through me. Was it possible for a man to make a woman wet by merely standing a few inches behind her and talking? That was exactly what was happening right now.
“Yes,” I said. “My imagination is too good sometimes.”
