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"Yes," I lied. "It will make everything a lot less complicated."
He sighed deeply before standing and moving toward me. "Charlie, last night was—"
"You don't have to say it," I interrupted, one of my hands already gripping the door handle. "Seriously, Nathan. I'm an adult. I can handle this. I won't say anything."
He frowned and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I trudged on, not wanting to give him the opportunity to let me down gently.
"I should go grab my bag out of my room and change. What time should I meet you in the lobby?"
Nathan met my eyes, and I could definitely see regret there. I forced myself not to break his intense gaze.
"We have an hour," he finally said.
"I'll see you down there." I forced a smile and backed out of the room. I managed to rush down the hall just before the hot, frustrated tears burst from my eyes.
How could I be so dumb?
Sleeping with my boss? What the hell had I been thinking? I don’t care how good he looked, or how right it felt at the time. That was a colossal mistake.
How could I be such a cliché?
As I slammed the door to my room and hopped in the shower, eager to wash the shame off my body, I thought about all the reasons I wanted to smack myself.
For pushing professional boundaries.
For wearing that slinky blouse yesterday that I knew made my boobs look good.
For thinking about Nathan as much as I did.
But most of all for how stupid I felt now that my heart felt like it was cracking into a million pieces.
Chapter Twenty-One
NATHAN
I typed furiously,trying to keep my eyes glued to my computer screen instead of on the elevator. Every time I heard the ding announcing its arrival, I instinctively jerked my head up to see if it was her.
I couldn't stop thinking about Charlie. She had taken up residence in my mind and refused to leave. I had already replayed the night we spent together last week in my head a thousand times. Everything about that night had seemed perfect—at least to me. I thought she felt something. And yet, when the morning came, she couldn't get out of my room fast enough. Was I truly that bad at reading people? I suppose my lack of romantic relationships was finally catching up to me. I had never cared before, but now it was driving me up the wall. The fact that she could so casually dismiss me made my blood boil. How could she not be feeling even a fraction of what I felt?
The elevator dinged, and my heart sank as I saw her emerging from the doors. She looked good—put together. Like she hadn't lost any sleep over thoughts of us. My fists clenched in frustration.
She had become an expert in avoiding me the past week, even sending a product manager in her place for a few meetings. Last week, I had been certain there was something between us. Now, she couldn't get away from me fast enough.
I thought once again about the night we’d had together in San Diego. How we had shared intimate details about our life. How afterward our attraction had seemed so magnetic it was like we couldn’t get enough of each other.
The next morning, I had gotten up early, still buzzing from the feeling of having her sleeping soundly next to me. A mental checklist had already begun forming. Though my emotions were undeniable, the reality of being her boss required careful consideration. There was the strict HR policy that we had to navigate. While not legally binding, it could still have significant consequences for me. I had resolved to consult with my lawyer as soon as I got back to explore a solution.
When she woke up, I was still processing everything that needed to happen. Then—before I could even say anything—she told me we should pretend like nothing ever happened. I had been stunned into silence.
I had tried to play it cool, but pain sliced through me at her words. How could she be so casual? Especially when the way I felt toward her in no way resembled casual. In fact, I would venture to say I'd never felt this way about a woman before. I could actually talk to her. She acted like she wanted me around—or at least she used to.
Now I had to pretend I felt nothing and it was fucking killing me. Usually, I could always count on work to be a distraction but even that was suffering. I couldn't focus on anything. I was a man possessed, constantly thinking about her. It was torture. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything without her crossing my mind.
Someone else got off the elevator, but I paid them no mind as I continued to watch her. Liam approached her desk and my typing became more furious. I saw the way he looked at her, like she was his to claim. I wished I could wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. A figure stepped into my doorframe, blocking my view. I jerked my gaze up to see the last person I expected standing there.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as Oliver sat in the seat across from me, making himself at home.
“Figured I’d check out where you work,” he said, grabbing a pen off my desk and clicking it incessantly. “Did you see Charlie out there?”
