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Troy stepped into the bathroom and I heard the medicine cabinet open and then close again. He rattled a bottle of pills in front of me. “Take two. By the time you get home, you won’t need that towel anymore.”
“Thanks.”
He weaved around me and went to his refrigerator where he found a cold bottle of water. He tossed it over his shoulder to me and after fumbling around for it for an embarrassing instant, I caught it and drank the pills down.
“So, how long have you been with Fitting In?” he asked. “It seems like you’re awful young to be doing a job like that.”
“That’s because I worked hard,” I said. “It wasn’t given to me if that’s what you were thinking.”
He cocked his head to the side and then shook it. “Nope. I wasn’t thinking that.”
“I graduated from school a semester early. This is my first real job.”
“Is that so?”
Troy was hustling around his apartment doing this and that. When he walked by me to get to his bedroom, he peeled his shirt off in one quick motion. I turned away before he could see my cheeks go scarlet.
“Yeah, it’s kind of always been my dream to do something like this.”
“Like what?” he called. “Deal with criminals like me who need to have their hand held?”
“No! Stop saying that. I’ve always wanted to help people who were-”
“Don’t you dare say it,” he warned as he stepped out of his room wearing a fresh t-shirt.”
“What?”
“I swear, if you end that sentence by saying ‘less fortunate’ I’ll throw you out of my house right now.” A smile flickered on and off his face like a broken neon marquee and I couldn’t tell how serious he was being.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I just wanted to help people.”
“Hey, I can’t argue with that. It’s a noble goal to have.”
He was standing straight ahead of me with his shoulders squared. He was wide at the top, thin in the middle, and sturdy at the bottom. My knees wobbled when he crossed his arms and coolly leaned against the wall. “Well, I guess I should get going. Thanks for letting me cross this one off the list.”
He didn’t budge and his grin didn’t falter. “Who says you have to leave now?”
“I… what do you mean?”
“We were just getting to know each other. This is the first time you’ve let me see the real person behind the wall. I gotta say, I kind of like it.”
He leaned into my personal space and I didn’t stop him. I put my hand on his chest… but I didn’t stop him.
“Really? I guess it’s nice to talk to one of my clients on a more personal level as well.”
“Mmm, yeah. Personal. Everyone is so impersonal these days.”
I pushed my hand up his pec and flicked a piece of lint from his shoulder. It flexed back against me.
Riley, stop it! What are you doing?
“This is nice,” Troy said, grabbing my shirt where it billowed out on both sides. “Feels like silk.”
“I… I don’t remember. It was a gift.”
“What about this?” his fingers walked down my sides to the hem of my skirt. His dark eyes almost glowed when he locked on to something he liked. He rubbed the material between his fingers for a tantalizing second.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
He shook his head, dismissing the question. Troy was the pragmatic type. There was a time and a place to talk about what was going on in our heads, but this wasn’t it. He only cared to live in the moment.
“Do you always dress like this?” he asked, raising his chin so that we could look at each other. He was at least half a foot taller than I was so I had to lean back to catch his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I self-consciously tugged my shirt flat against my belly.
“These designer skirts and high end blouses,” he said, slipping the button at my collar free from its binding.
“I don’t know. I guess it’s just my style.” My neck tingled where his fingertips brushed my skin.
“Your style is a six-hundred-dollar skirt from some store that I’ve probably never even heard of?”
“It’s just what I-”
He pulled me by the elbow until it turned me around. His hand stayed on me like a vice grip. A dull heat began to rise in my cheeks.
“I never understood that,” he said. Though I couldn’t see him, I could tell we was looking me up and down while he spoke. “What is it about you rich girls that makes you think that just because you have it, you have to spend it on bullshit?”
“Excuse me?” I said, trying to twist out of his grip. A calm, almost peaceful, look rested on his face. His fingers didn’t loosen on my arm even a little bit.
“I don’t mean anything by it, but it just seems like you’re trying to keep up appearances that real people don’t even care about. Are those million-dollar-assholes who work down at your office really that important to impress?”
Troy pulled me closer. I pretended to resist, but both he and I knew that I was faking it. I ended up standing on his toes. It didn’t seem like he minded.
“First off, you said my clothes were ‘bullshit’, so you can’t tell me you ‘didn’t mean anything by it.’ And second, just because someone comes from money doesn’t mean they’re too out of touch to be a good person.”
From this distance, I could smell the minty gum on his breath. The way he kept cocking his head to the side when he listened was making my ninety-two-dollar lace panties wet. He’d probably love the irony in that.
“Besides,” I continued, “this whole program seems like it’s working out okay for you. I didn’t hear any complaints when FI assisted you with getting in to this apartment.”
He nodded slowly, but the grin was only getting closer to appearing on his lips. Nothing I could say was going to faze him. “Yeah, but that was court-ordered.”
“Maybe I should just show up to our meetings in rain boots and a potato sack. Would that make this more comfortable for you?”
“Forget about the clothes,” he chuckled. “It was just a question. You ask me questions all day, so I thought I’d turn the tables.”
Troy’s eyes were like laser beams, boring straight in to my soul. He was the kind of man who could make other men nervous from across the room with just a look. According to what I read in his file, there were probably a lot of people who’d been on the business end of that look.
“Anyway, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
There was no shame in the way he studied me. When his eyes moved all the way up, he reached forward and freed another button. The material pulled further apart, exposing the top of my cleavage.
“Troy, this isn’t-” I shifted my weight to my other foot and it caused me to bump against him. The distinct ridge of his rock-hard erection prodded my upper leg. I gasped and stepped back.
This time he let my arm go.
“I’m listening.”
“Huh? I mean, excuse me?” My words were coming in staccato bursts. The feeling of his cock against my leg shattered any remaining façade that I was keeping my shit together.
“You started to tell me something.” He pulled his t-shirt away from his body and flapped it up and down to fan some air on to him. When he did, I saw the defined lines in his abs. My underwear was ruined.
“I… I was saying this isn’t appropriate. We shouldn’t be meeting this late. At least, not this late unless we’re at the FI offices. It’s my fault. I probably shouldn’t have come by.”
That grin finally spread across his face like wildfire. It was absolutely devilish now. “But… I needed my assistance,” he said, mocking me by sticking his bottom lip out for effect. “I’m a hopeless felon who can’t get anything done without the help of a great organization like Falling In.”
“Troy…”
He closed the small amount of distance that I’d just created between us. We were almost magnetically drawn to each other. “What is it, Riley?”
My name rolled off his tongue like he’d been saying it all his life.
“I… I have to leave now.”
What?! No!
“You do?” his tone was impossibly even and measured. “Then, I suppose you have to do what you have to do.” His head stayed still and his eyes remained uncovered passages into his deepest and dirtiest thoughts.
I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to go anywhere but straight into his arms. Visions of workplace drama and public shame danced in my head, but so did his rock-hard body.
“I have to go,” I finally shrieked, tearing away from him and falling into the wall.
Troy raised an eyebrow but didn’t say another word. I flailed for the door knob and yanked at manically. When it flew open, I stumbled into the cold night air and ran for my car like a fool. I didn’t have the guts to look back over my shoulder.
