I’ve got my head down in m books in the conference room when Ryan and Kayla come through the office after recording the show.

Quickly flipping my phone over and checking the time, I scratch away an itch on my cheek and realize I’ve been at this for over two hours.

The time has absolutely flown by in a way that I haven’t experienced in some time. When I was in high school, my chemistry teacher, Dr. Yan, would let me and a few of my girlfriends stay after eighth period got out to do some extra credit in the lab - supervised, of course. It was back then that time flew by, the minutes on the clock turning into hours as we completed the experiments contained at the back of our textbooks.

But I haven’t enjoyed working like this in a long time. This research Kayla and Ryan have given me is allowing me to really dig in and get my hands dirty.

I look over to Ryan through the wall between us and he flashes me his cocky grin, scrubbing the side of his face with his hand. Just his look, his glance, the slight arch of his eyebrow above his deep, swimming brown eyes sends a flutter of warmth through my stomach.

Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to my books.

The assignment is very interesting to me, something that seems so deceptively simple, but that I think is so important.

When Ryan asked me why I wanted to pursue science, I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with him. It’s true that I want to help people, and maybe that’s partially selfish of me. It just makes me feel good to know I’ve assisted someone even in a small way. It gives me purpose and clarity to help someone learn a lesson, however small.

But I haven’t told him about my mom yet. I haven’t even told him the basics, let alone any of the details.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kayla come over to the door of the conference room and let herself in.

“Hey,” I say, softly closing the book I was perusing. “How was the show?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” she responds. “There’s nothing I haven’t heard yet. We had a caller today who wants her boyfriend to go down on her more. That’s an easy one.”

“Right,” I say, feeling myself blush, remembering my little conversation with Ryan at the pool party. “Easy.”

“Good work, by the way,” Kayla says. “And I see that you and Ryan have an excellent working relationship.”

My heart freezes behind my ribcage. I don’t know if she is referring to his dirty words - his lips near my ear, whispering naughty things he should be - or if she’s referring to how, outwardly, the professional lines I’ve attempted to draw seem to be, for all intents and purposes, clear and respected.

“Yeah,” I reply cautiously. “He’s a good boss.”

“And you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” Kayla smiles and shakes her head, her pretty dark hair swaying around her chin. “I wish we could keep you forever. You’re picking up the technical aspects of the job, and you’re going above and beyond with all of your extra work. I even heard he’s going to take you to New York for this club thing.”

“Yeah,” I say, relieved that she’s proud of me. “It should be really interesting. I’ve never been to New York before. Never been to the east coast.”

“You’re going to like it,” she says. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. You tell me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I say as she gets up from the table and walks over to the door, letting herself out softly. I spin around slowly in my chair and face the window, the inky black sky dotted with airplanes landing and taking off, zigging and zagging through the sky. The hills of Hollywood roll and turn and splay out, tumbling through my memory. I close my eyes and think back to being with Ryan at his house, in his home, in his guestroom. I wonder what his bedroom looks like. I smile a little, biting my lip, knowing that he’s in the room adjacent to me and wonder, without looking over, if he’s looking at me right now.

The way he made me beg for something so simple - the feeling of his lips on mine, his skin on my skin - a kiss, something so innocent. But he made it so dirty.

My eyes flutter open as he knocks on the glass dividing our workspaces. I swivel my head aside, my eyes scanning the window and the glowing city below me, landing on Ryan. He’s standing there with one hand shoved snugly in the front pocket of his Diesel jeans, the other waving to me.

He pantomimes a spoon going into his mouth and shrugs. He’s asking me to dinner without using any words.

My delicious boss crosses through his office and dips out, swapping over into the conference room, ducking his head in.

“You hungry?” he says.

“You want to get soup?” I say.

“Soup?” He scrubs the side of his face. “I guess we could have soup. But it’s a little warm out for soup, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me, sir, it looked like you wanted soup.” I mimic the way he dipped an imaginary spoon through the air. “Right?”

“That’s the international symbol to tell someone you want to eat, not a signal that I’m craving soup.”

“Gotcha,” I reply.

“I was thinking sushi. You in? You’ve done enough work for one night.”

“Okay,” I say, stretching my arms above my head. I can’t help but think I might be in trouble if I spend any more time with him tonight, but a girl’s got to eat. “Want me to call for delivery?”

“I was thinking we could pick something up and then go back to my place. I saw you looking out the window. You’ve never seen my house at night.”

My stomach flips and sends a chill of butterflies through my body.

I did beg him to kiss me. Right here in this room, on the clock. I begged him. I asked nicely, like he told me to. Sweetly.

And he said no. But he promised I’d be thinking about it all night. And he was right; I have.