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My fingers itched to rub it for her, to work out the knots and kinks until she was loose and pliant and—
Stop, man. Just fucking stop.
Right.
I gently knocked on her opened door, wanting to announce myself without startling her like I’d done when she’d first started working here.
“Hi, Wes,” she said without looking up from her work, her voice gentle but exhausted.
“Do you know how late it is?” I asked, stepping into her office and crossing the distance between us. I stayed on the other side of her desk, using it as a barrier to stop myself from giving into the idea of helping her with the tension in her shoulders.
The urge wasn’t new, but the strength had intensified recently, like whatever damper I’d kept my need for her under for years had corroded until it was barely working anymore. Which wasn’t fucking acceptable. It didn’t matter how I craved Brynn on a damn near molecular level. I couldn’t live without her, and you never fucked with what you couldn’t live without. I’d spouted that advice to my friends on more than one occasion, but here I was wanting to ignore it all.
“Hmm?” she asked, finally looking up from her work. She blinked a few times, like it took an effort to tear herself away from the zone she was in, then glanced over her shoulder. “Oh,” she said, a little surprise in her tone as she turned back around to face me. “When did it get dark outside?”
I smiled at her, glancing down at my watch. “About three hours ago.”
She laughed, then rubbed her palms over her face. “I didn’t even notice.”
“I assumed,” I said, my eyes trailing down the length of her body. She was barefoot, her pumps off to the side. “You’re allowed to take a break, you know?”
“I know,” she said, sighing. “I just want to nail this.”
“Brynn,” I said, coming around the desk when I noted the worry in her green eyes, the exhaustion showing around the edges. “You are nailing it. There is no one better for this role than you. You have to cut yourself some slack.”
She looked up at me, her smile real and soft and fuck me, her lips were so damn kissable.
All I needed to do was lean down—
“You really think so?” she asked. “You’re not just saying that as my best friend?”
“I mean it,” I said with all sincerity.
“Imposter syndrome is kind of a bitch,” she said, laughing softly.
“Fuck her,” I said, and her smile brightened. “Let’s get some food in you.”
She looked like she might argue, but eventually nodded and slid her feet into her pumps before wrapping her arms around me in a thank you.
My arms automatically slid around her, the motion instinctual.
“You’re legit the best sometimes,” she said, turning her head so she could look up at me.
I smoothed my hands up and down her back while looking down at her. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”
“And you ruined it,” she teased.
“I ruin everything,” I said, unable to stop the truth slicing through the joke. Because if I held on to her for a second longer, I might just ruin things for both of us.
But she wasn’t looking up at me like she wanted me to let her go, which made heat streak through my veins.
“Wes—”
I released her, taking a calculated step away. “Food. Let’s go before work drags you under again.”
“Food,” she repeated before straightening and leading the way out of her office.
Fuck, that was close. I needed to get a grip, and hunt down wherever the hell my willpower went when it came to all things Brynn.
