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“So, what do you call it when you stalk innocent men and wait for them outside their apartments?”
“My job.”
Jonah snorts. “Ah yes, informing the residents of the Upper West Side about the latest celebrity to move to the neighborhood. A real public service.”
My eyes snap open. Jonah is watching me as the elevator ticks down. He looks feral in the dim light. His gaze is predatory, his eyes flickering with malice. His arms are crossed in his black sweatshirt.
We do more than publish celebrity gossip, and he knows it. We’d be able to do even more if I wasn’t spending twenty hours a week trying to make ends meet taking photos. I could focus more on the lifelong residents of our area instead of its most famous ones. My eyes narrow.
“What public service do you provide, Mr. Crown?”
His nostrils flare briefly. “Plenty. We have numerous charities we support.”
I snort and lean back against the wall. “I’m too tired for this today. I didn’t sleep. Your papers are sorted, your highness.”
Jonah leans in, gaze sharpening on mine. His nearness makes my pulse thud. His cologne smells delicious and his lips are parted slightly. He stares me down like I’m the only thing in his universe. He’s the first person to ever do that, and I hate it. I hate how much of his attention I garner, and how he wields it like a weapon. “You don’t get to be tired, Thompson. And I prefer Your Majesty.”
With that, he sweeps out of the elevator and beckons for me to follow. Like I’m some kind of dog. I hate you, Jonah Crown.
I swallow my words as a gleaming row of exercise machines unfurls before us, backlit by the lights of Manhattan through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s not yet dawn, though the sky is lighter than it would be at 5 a.m. Jonah drops his workout bag on the ground and strips off his sweatshirt. His shirt rides up to display a hard stomach, and my belly tightens. I quickly look away as he prepares for his workout. I want you to suffer. I nearly laugh. I’m already there.
“Towel’s in the bag. Water too. Work out if you want. Sit on your hands. I don’t care.” He walks away and through an unmarked door at the back of the room.
“Towel’s in the bag,” I mimic, before slumping onto the chair of one of the leg press machines and shutting my eyes.
I’m just drifting off when I hear, “Thompson” in Jonah’s deep voice. Too soon.
“I’m pretending to be dead. Please go away.”
“Much as I wish that were true, I need a towel. Let’s go.”
I crack my lids and promptly suck in wind. He’s shirtless. He tips his water bottle up, and his throat works. My brain short circuits. A bead of sweat appears at his hairline and I follow it with my eyes, tracing over the column of his throat, the cut of his collarbones against his smooth skin. Then lower. Moisture seeps over the edge of his pec, just inches from the flat disk of his nipple. His skin glistens over slabs of muscle. My mouth is dry and I swallow hard. Look away. But I can’t. I need to know where that droplet of sweat is going to go. It traces lazily over each ridge of his abdominals, tempting me to reach out and follow it with my fingers, until it finally lands in the crisp black hairs that lead into his shorts. I shudder when it disappears and lift my gaze to his. He’s done drinking the water, and my face flames. Caught ogling the boss. I wait for a cutting remark, but he watches me under heavy lids. His breaths are coming fast, like mine are. Except I didn’t work out. I stand on shaky legs.
“I’ll just get that towel,” I say inanely. I keep several feet between us as I rummage in his bag, pulling out the white towel. I pass it to him without looking and he takes it. Could this be any more embarrassing? Lusting after a man who wants to ruin me. I’m texting Adriana and Luz for backup the second I escape from this gym.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks.
I turn to see Jonah eyeing me. “Nothing. Just tired. You know.”
He towels over the back of his neck and into his hair. “What time did you go to bed?”
“Bed? Oh no. I slept here. In case you couldn’t tell.”
He grins. “It was a figure of speech. It’s obvious you slept here.” That grin makes my skin feel hot. He’s handsome beyond belief when he smiles. Even if it’s at the thought of my misery.
“Ah, three maybe? I’m not sure. I went back to finish filing after I sent the paper to the printer because I realized I had filed the financial statements with the invoices, which obviously makes no sense. So I went back through all the boxes and filed them with investor reports. And then I had to label everything. By the way, there are some HR files included in there. Those should be shredded if it’s past the retention date.” My eye twitches from exhaustion, and I press a hand over it. “After that it gets a little blurry. I lost track of time. And I cut myself on the tape dispenser trying to seal up the boxes, so I had to deal with that. You should really have first aid kits readily available.”
Jonah is watching me, a faint frown on his face. I’m rambling but I can’t shut up. He probably hates rambling. I told myself I would be circumspect and smart. Shut up, Cal.
“Wait right here.”
He turns around and walks to a carefully concealed closet. He moves economically through space, confidently. When he turns back, there’s a first aid kit in his hands.
I put my hand out for it, but he keeps coming. I step back, and he follows, until the backs of my knees hit a weight bench.
“Sit.” His face is impassive.
I sink to the bench. He sinks to the floor, kneeling before me like he’s a supplicant before a queen. I press a hand to my mouth to keep from laughing at the absurdity.
