As my hand hangs in the air, I draw some oxygen into my constricted lungs and let out a big exhale. I knock on the door of Emily’s hotel room for the second time today.

I didn’t want to bother her if she didn’t want to speak with me, so I waited at the conference hall for her to come back until the exhibitors started shutting down their booths. I got a couple new business contacts from it, but I would’ve preferred having her company instead.

I went back to my room at the end of the night, fully intending to wait until tomorrow to see her, but I can’t stand it anymore. So here I am.

The door swings open and, to my relief, there she is. She doesn’t look very friendly, and I don’t blame her after the way I acted last night. I shoot her an apologetic grin.

It was my fault. I got carried away, and then I caught myself but it was already too late. I fucked up, and she’s pissed off. That much I understand.

What I don’t understand, though, is just how much that bothers me. I’ve pissed off a lot of women. A lot. I’ve always been able to dust myself off in a matter of minutes. Last night, though, I tossed and turned, my mind tortured by the thoughts of me having hurt Emily again in some way. I can’t stand it.

Miserable and sleep-deprived, I decided this morning to get her forgiveness, no matter what.

I’ve only just started sleeping again. I can’t let myself slide back to the way I was. No way. If there’s even a tiny crack, guilt would pour in like water and fuck everything up. It would destroy everything I’ve worked so hard for.

“Can I help you?” Emily plasters the sweetest fake smile on her face. Still, her lips look inviting enough to devour, reminding me of how close I had gotten last night to tasting those luscious lips. She has let her hair down, probably to lay on the bed, judging from the many stray strands sticking out of her head in all directions, glowing as they catch the warm light from the ceiling.

“I’ve been looking for you all over. Can you let me in?”

“I can. But why should I?” She raises one eyebrow, challenging me.

Ouch. I guess I deserve that. Luckily, I have the perfect excuse.

“I got you a replacement phone. I need to be able to reach you.” I step closer and place my hand on the door, gently pushing it. “I’ll show you how to set it up. It’s an old phone. Takes a few tricks to make it work.”

“Okay.” She lets go of the door, turns around, and walks inside. I follow her and close the door behind me.

As I enter the hotel room, I notice she hasn’t changed her clothes, but she has untucked her blouse and her shoes are lying on the floor.

She’s barefoot with her clothes disheveled.

Suddenly, I become hyper aware of my having entered her private space. This room, it smells like her, like wildflowers and citrus.

She plops down on the chair by the desk, and I take a seat on the bed, mirroring the positions where we sat last night. This room and mine are pretty much identical. I can tell she’s also thinking about last night by the way she’s glaring at me.

“When you told me you lost your phone, I realized I had a spare one in my room. It’s an old phone, but it should work fine to tide you over.” I hold up the phone in my hand.

“So this is what they mean when they call you a micro-manager, huh?” She asks, taking the phone and inspecting it. “You like to do everything yourself, and you like people to do exactly as you tell them.”

“Is that what they say about me? What else do they say?” I don’t really care about my reputation among my employees as long as they do good work, but Emily’s talking and I want to keep it that way.

“That you have a temper and you fire people when you’re angry,” she says. “So how do you actually turn this thing on?”

“You have to charge the battery first.” I give her the charging cable in my hand and gesture at the socket in the base of the lamp on the desk. “Why do they say that?”

“They say you fired a guy last year. Someone from accounting. His wife was pregnant with their third kid and she didn’t work and it was right before Christmas. They heard you yelling and then they saw the guy walking out of the office with all his stuff in a box. The people at the office had to chip in to help with the hospital bills for the delivery of the baby,” she says. Having connected the phone to a power source, she places it on the desk, waiting for it to gather enough electricity to turn on.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. They made me out to be the grinch over that?” I throw my hands in the air. “Ted had been embezzling money. I don’t know why he didn’t have enough money for the delivery. He stole more than enough to cover it.”

“They say you never do interviews for junior positions yourself,” she says, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow quizzically. She looks calm, but I can tell she’s been waiting to ask this question for a while from the way her hands aimlessly press the buttons on the still-off phone.

“Evidently I do.” I shoot her a smile, but I can immediately tell from her scowl that’s not a satisfactory answer. It’s easier to stick with something simple. I shrug and say the simplest answer I can think of, “I probably had some free time on that day. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” She repeats, with the scowl still firmly glued on her face. She’s obviously still unhappy with my new, revised answer. “Do you know how much trouble it has caused for me?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. I do feel guilty over some things I’ve put Emily through, but she can’t expect me to take responsibility for how other people treat her, too. Especially when I’ve only been trying to help her. “I can’t keep up with the office gossip and decide which stories are true. I don’t control information. I don’t run a dictatorship.”

“They say you never invite anyone else to travel with you in First Class.”

“I’m sorry for trying to be nice to you. You said you don’t travel much. I just thought it would be a nice experience for you.” I hear my voice get louder. I know I’m getting worked up and I should probably shut up, considering I came here to get Emily to forgive me for last night, not to make her even angrier at me.

“They say you live with Steffi and I’m your mistress.” She puts the phone down on the desk and folds her arms across her chest. She glares at me.

Fuck. Why does everything I do for her backfire?

I run my fingers through my hair, as if I can massage my problems away. I sigh and look deep into her eyes. Maybe it’s time to change my tack. Maybe I’m handling this all wrong. Maybe it’s time to drop the act. Maybe then I’ll stop hurting her.

“I’m sorry.” I rest my elbows on my knees as I lean closer to her. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“So you do live with Steffi?”

“What? I mean I’m sorry for causing a misunderstanding,” I say.

“So do you or do you not live with her?” She raises her voice and squeezes her hands so hard her knuckles are turning white. Why does it matter to her? Could she really be jealous this time?

“No, Emily. I don’t live with Steffi or with anyone else. I live on my own.” I reach for her hands, trying to soothe her, but she pulls them away.

“Don’t,” she says sternly.

I look up into her face. The hurt written all over her face surprises me.

“Don’t drag me into your little games, Cole,” she says, her tone flat but her voice shaky. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do. I mean, you drove me away last night, and then this morning you showed up with gifts, and then you just showed up again with another gift? You think you can just pay your way out of trouble just because that has always worked your whole life? What is it that you want?”

“I’m not…” I let my voice trail off and sigh. “I’m not playing any games with you, Emily.”

“Right. I bet you say that to all the other girls too.”

“I’m not going to deny that I have a reputation, but that’s not something I say to any other girl,” I tell her honestly, meeting her glare. “The way I feel about you… It’s definitely not a game.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know, Emily. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know. This is all so new to me.” I grab her hands in mine, begging her to believe me. She doesn’t pull away this time. “All I know is I’ve never felt this way before about anyone else, and that scared me last night. I had no idea how to deal with all these feelings. I don’t usually...feel.”

I watch as the anger in her eyes gradually diminishes. Just like I did last night, I reach for her face. Only this time, I drop all pretense and touch her with my full intention. I want her to know how much this really means. She obviously has no idea how special she is to me. I'm making it my job now to show her.

I pull her closer and lean my forehead against hers. She does the same and closes her eyes. And then we kiss, her lips hot and delicate. I’ve been wondering about these lips for the longest time, since the first time I saw her when she belonged to someone else, and now I can have them.

I pull back a little just to see her face so I can remember this moment for the rest of my life. Her lips are red and wet, and her face looks flushed. She looks good like this, and knowing I’m the one who did that to her makes me want to find out what other secrets she’s hiding in that sexy body.

A little voice in my head tells me this is wrong, but I can't deny the feelings I have for her anymore. I have to make her mine.