what’s inside. They’re too busy ogling what’s on the outside to notice.
But all this time while he’s been doing just that, he’s also been looking inward, and as I stare back at him with wide eyed wonder, I can’t help but feel like this sexual spark that’s been simmering between us just exploded into something more.
Something I don’t know if I’m ready for, let alone want. Not with someone like him.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “You look a little flustered.”
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’m fine.”
“I hope that wasn’t too forward.”
“No,” I say quietly. “It wasn’t.”
“You’re turn,” he says.
Catching my breath, I collapse back in my seat. “I don’t know what I see when I look at you. Not anymore. I thought I did. I thought you were just some rich, oversexed jerk. The type to throw a tantrum when he doesn’t get what he wants. I thought for sure this day was going to be horrendous and you’d make me earn every last cent of my salary by being a complete ass to me, but as it turns out, this day has been pretty amazing, and you along with it. You’ve completely surprised me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that because usually I’m pretty good at reading people, but with you it’s totally different.”
Grant sits quietly, pondering my words for a moment. He probably thinks me a crazy person after spewing all that, but honesty is the best policy, right? He’s being honest enough with me, so the least I can do is return the favor.
“Too forward?” I ask.
Grant shakes his head. “I meant it was your turn to apologize, Raven. For lunch.”
“Oh. Oh shit. I’m sorry.”
Okay, now I’m flustered, and completely embarrassed for making an ass out of myself, assuming he meant one thing when he meant another. Of course he wanted an apology for lunch. That’s how this whole exchange started, and now I’m left holding the bag, metaphorically, and literally as I start to gather up the trash so I can get out of here and back to my desk as quickly as possible before any more word vomit can spew forth from my big mouth.
It’s while I’m so intently focused on this task that Grant rises from his seat and comes around the desk. His hand falls over mine, and he’s dangerously close. So close I can feel his hot breath just inches away from my neck as he leans over. With every fiber of my being I try not to tremble at his touch. It feels as if every defensive shield I’ve raised has just fallen, and he could come storming in at any minute.
“Hey,” he whispers.
I pause, unable to look at him for a moment. When I gather enough courage, I tilt my head and stare into his deep brown eyes, searching for some sort of sense in all this. Why did he have to write what he did on that receipt? Why did I post it online and demand a personal apology that led to this very moment? What’s the purpose? I don’t believe in coincidence, or fate. I believe everything in our lives happens for a reason, but all this?
I just don’t know.
He reaches forward with a finger, delicately tracing my lip. When he pulls away, there’s a glob of McSauce on it that he sucks into his mouth. There’s a devilishly sexy grin creeping up his cheeks and all of a sudden, he’s back.
The slick talking, sex-joke-making, incredibly handsome Grant Huffman I’ve come to adore in the short amount of time we’ve known one another. Which is crazy because it hasn’t been that long at all. A day and a half? When you put it like that it sounds like some kind of crazy instal-love you read about in those cheesy romance novels I make fun of Frankie for reading, but I can’t deny there’s something going on between Grant and me. Something that goes beyond the physical.
It’s certainly not love, but it is something , and that confuses me because I’m not that girl. The girl who falls for guys on the spot, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous they are.
Fuck, what is this man doing to me?
“You
But all this time while he’s been doing just that, he’s also been looking inward, and as I stare back at him with wide eyed wonder, I can’t help but feel like this sexual spark that’s been simmering between us just exploded into something more.
Something I don’t know if I’m ready for, let alone want. Not with someone like him.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “You look a little flustered.”
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’m fine.”
“I hope that wasn’t too forward.”
“No,” I say quietly. “It wasn’t.”
“You’re turn,” he says.
Catching my breath, I collapse back in my seat. “I don’t know what I see when I look at you. Not anymore. I thought I did. I thought you were just some rich, oversexed jerk. The type to throw a tantrum when he doesn’t get what he wants. I thought for sure this day was going to be horrendous and you’d make me earn every last cent of my salary by being a complete ass to me, but as it turns out, this day has been pretty amazing, and you along with it. You’ve completely surprised me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that because usually I’m pretty good at reading people, but with you it’s totally different.”
Grant sits quietly, pondering my words for a moment. He probably thinks me a crazy person after spewing all that, but honesty is the best policy, right? He’s being honest enough with me, so the least I can do is return the favor.
“Too forward?” I ask.
Grant shakes his head. “I meant it was your turn to apologize, Raven. For lunch.”
“Oh. Oh shit. I’m sorry.”
Okay, now I’m flustered, and completely embarrassed for making an ass out of myself, assuming he meant one thing when he meant another. Of course he wanted an apology for lunch. That’s how this whole exchange started, and now I’m left holding the bag, metaphorically, and literally as I start to gather up the trash so I can get out of here and back to my desk as quickly as possible before any more word vomit can spew forth from my big mouth.
It’s while I’m so intently focused on this task that Grant rises from his seat and comes around the desk. His hand falls over mine, and he’s dangerously close. So close I can feel his hot breath just inches away from my neck as he leans over. With every fiber of my being I try not to tremble at his touch. It feels as if every defensive shield I’ve raised has just fallen, and he could come storming in at any minute.
“Hey,” he whispers.
I pause, unable to look at him for a moment. When I gather enough courage, I tilt my head and stare into his deep brown eyes, searching for some sort of sense in all this. Why did he have to write what he did on that receipt? Why did I post it online and demand a personal apology that led to this very moment? What’s the purpose? I don’t believe in coincidence, or fate. I believe everything in our lives happens for a reason, but all this?
I just don’t know.
He reaches forward with a finger, delicately tracing my lip. When he pulls away, there’s a glob of McSauce on it that he sucks into his mouth. There’s a devilishly sexy grin creeping up his cheeks and all of a sudden, he’s back.
The slick talking, sex-joke-making, incredibly handsome Grant Huffman I’ve come to adore in the short amount of time we’ve known one another. Which is crazy because it hasn’t been that long at all. A day and a half? When you put it like that it sounds like some kind of crazy instal-love you read about in those cheesy romance novels I make fun of Frankie for reading, but I can’t deny there’s something going on between Grant and me. Something that goes beyond the physical.
It’s certainly not love, but it is something , and that confuses me because I’m not that girl. The girl who falls for guys on the spot, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous they are.
Fuck, what is this man doing to me?
“You
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