She dropped her bags in a whirlwind of chaos. ‘Sorry I’m late. I went for a swim before work and lost track of time. Anyway, I’m here now.’

I counted four bags. Four fucking bags. What did she possibly need to carry that involved four bags? I knew one contained lunch. For the past couple of weeks, she had started making double sandwiches, one extra for me when I admitted there were days I would go without eating if it was particularly manic. Double sandwiches turned into double bags of crisps. Except they weren’t crisps, they were rice cakes—and they tasted like cardboard. She had brought them in just for me, so I ate every last one until I gasped for water. Double bottles of water started next, along with some kind of rice cake with chocolate across the top. A treat, apparently, but even the chocolate didn’t improve it. In the afternoon, she would slip me a slice of fruit bread. I swear my heart grew bigger every bloody day. Heart-swelling was a totally new experience for me. I liked it.

‘What’s the drill for today, Dawson.’

I liked the way she called me by my last name. So fucking unique. So her. I had a feeling she was the kind of woman who kept a condom in her bra just in case and one in her sock just in case after that. No apologies. No nerves. Just enough confidence and self-assurance to be brilliant in her own flawless way. She was unlike anyone I had ever met before. Bold and brash. Never afraid to speak her mind—and always fucking did. Most people like her would be branded a royal bitch, but she was so far away from that. She was perfectly Abi. Distinctive. Loved and adored by everyone in and out of the office.

I adored her more.

She made me smile every bloody day. I found myself getting into work earlier so I could catch her entrance. Always chaotic. Always brilliantly her. Mad, big, eccentric, and bold. She’d brought a breath of fresh air from the moment she arrived, just like she’d brought a light into my life that I didn’t even know I needed. She had illuminated everything.

‘Observation at ten. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,’ I said.

‘I was hoping you’d forgotten.’

‘How on earth do you think you’re going to pass your placement if I conveniently forget your observations?’

‘I could find a way to bribe the practice tutor,’ she said with a smile.

My mind started to wander. It started with kissing, then moving my hand down to the curve of her waist, then unclasping her bra, the white lacy one she was wearing on her first day, the same one that tortured my mind whenever I tried to sleep. Then I thought about her touching me in places I’d been imagining in the shower every morning and night.

Showers were coming out of my ears. I’d never been so clean.

Nipples. Can we talk nipples? I was still wondering what my tongue would feel like wrapped around that piercing. I studied her nose piercing far longer than was necessary. I imagined the same tiny crystal at the edge of her nipple. Her nipples were all I could think about. She was all I could think about. God, she was beautiful.

‘Jamie!’

‘What? Sorry. Yes. Bribery. We could discuss that.’ She laughed, which was an issue because it seemed to cause my cock to throb. I hadn’t hidden so many erections since I was a horny teenager.

‘I said I’m already bribing you with lunch every day,’ she laughed again.

Fuck.

We didn’t need to discuss bribery. She already had two observations under her belt and had smashed both. Today’s observation of a parenting assessment session would be a breeze for the intelligent woman sitting in front of me. She got social work. She had it perfected. She had a brilliant ability to tell it like it was without causing offense or starting a social work hate campaign from the clients she worked with. They liked her honesty.

‘So that’s why you slipped me a Mars bar the other day.’

‘I knew you couldn’t face another rice cake, so I decided to give you a treat.’

She smiled at me and I felt an uncontrollable urge to jump across the table and kiss her until she was mine. Would she ever be mine? Fuck, I wanted her to be mine.

Sitting in close proximity for the last month had given me access to so much. She liked to snack on sunflower seeds at 11:00 a.m. She waited until her coffee was a lower temperature than scolding before she drank it. She liked half a sugar in her tea. She would help anyone in the office. She enjoyed being part of every aspect of social work. She also smiled broadly whenever she checked her phone, which led me to wonder if she had a boyfriend texting her sweet nothings and pure filth. I wanted to ask her, but how could I fit that into everyday conversation? Pass me the stapler, and do you happen to have a boyfriend?

‘I have to smile whenever I get a text from Elle because I know she’s sitting in the next room.’

Thank you, God. Just Elle. No boyfriend. Just Elle.

‘How’s she getting on with Luke?’

‘Don’t say anything, but I think she may have a crush.’

‘Tell her to stay away from him. He’s trouble.’

‘Oh, Elle isn’t like that.’

What are you like, Abi Sinclair? Tell me everything. Give me it all.

‘Like what?’

Dangerous ground, Dawson.

‘She doesn’t mess around. She’s all for her career. No outside distractions.’

‘Outside distractions are the worst,’ I deadpanned while pretending to scribble something important on my notepad when really, all I had scribbled was: What is Abi’s definition of messing around?

‘Depends.’ As she replied, blood rushed to parts of my body I appeared to no longer have any control over.

‘On?’

‘The type of distraction.’

‘Yes,’ I replied hoarsely, like my voice had a fucking hard-on.

‘Some distractions can be good.’

‘Yes.’

‘So good,’ she said.

Fuck me. I was a millimetre away from showing her my sex face.

Adjust yourself. Do not show her your groin.

‘Jamie.’

‘Yes, Abi?’

‘Can I be your distraction?’

Officially fucked.