Zoey
Yesterday, Easton was a no show. He texted me early in the morning to let me know he wouldn’t be in. Still dwelling on the humiliation, I didn’t care to inquire the reason why since his calendar was empty. I was happy to not have to look him in the eye.
Then this morning, he came in, said a quick impassive good morning, and shut the door. When I stuck my head in and brought him more coffee, he was on the phone and didn’t acknowledge me.
He never emerged from his office for lunch and now that the day has passed and it’s quitting time, I swallow my pride and knock on his door. He’s sitting behind his desk, jacket and tie are gone, the top buttons of his navy shirt undone. My heart leaps at the sexiness but cramps at how stressed he looks.
“I’m heading out. Do you need anything?” I ask quietly.
“No. Thank you.” He doesn’t look up.
“Don’t stick around too long. Everyone needs a break,” I say and then shut the door.
As I wait for the elevator, sympathy begins chewing through me. When the doors swoosh open, the feeling becomes a full-fledge boulder on my chest. I sigh and turn back.
“What do you need help with?” I ask, dropping my purse on the couch.
“Nothing.” His eyes are as grumpy as he sounds.
I cross my arms across my chest. “What can I help you with?”
He raises an irked brow. “Go home, Zoey.”
My courage is high, coursing through me as I park my courageous ass on the couch like some sort of protest. “You can either let me help or I’m holding down the couch and keeping you company. Either way, it’s better than what I had planned. I’ll help or hinder. Your choice.”
He pushes away from his desk and steeples his fingers. His gaze is heavy with exhaustion mixed with vexation. I brace for the chastise. “What about your flower friend? Shouldn’t you have plans with him?”
I scrunch my nose and wave my hand dismissing the thought. “He’s not my type.”
“Even after flowers?”
“And two meals all while delving into how important role-playing games are in his life.” I pinch my face again. “Trust me. I’m not interested.”
He studies me, his eyes roaming my face. “Why are you single, Zoey?”
The question makes me snicker. I shrug. “I don’t know the answer to that. I seem to attract the weirdos, lameos, joblessos, and whatever O’s are left after that.”
He nods like he understands, but I know there is absolutely no way he knows what picking from the O list is like. He can be as picky as he’d like with all the women throwing themselves at him and never make it to the list.
“Go home to your pretend pregnant hamster. I’m almost done here,” he says and I swear I saw a slight tug on his lips. He almost smiled. Almost.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” I try again.
He pulls back up to his desk and glances at the papers. “Good night, Zoey.”
I grab my purse and when I reach of the door knob, he calls out.
“Are you taking the train?” There’s a sense of urgency under the composure.
“Unless there’s a car out there with a pretty bow on it, then yes,” I deadpan.
Dissatisfaction spreads across his expression. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried lightening the mood. “Let me take you home.” He stands.
“No!” I blurt in panic. “I mean, I’m fine. I’m good.” I rush out in a mess.
“Either I take you or I’ll call Clint. You’ve said yourself the weirdos come out at night and you just admitted you attract them all. I prefer you safe.” His hard lines crack as a smile stretches across his face. He spreads his arms to the side. “It’s in my blood.”
I chew my lip, my eyes wide. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this for years.” My insides are vibrating, but my voice streams out steadily. “Really. I’m fine, but thanks.”
Except I’m not fine. I’m trapped in the elevator with him. With the sexy smelling cologne that makes me want to grab him by his face and slam my lips on him. With his lustful body. With…him. All the things I don’t want to be this close to.
He gestures for me to lead the way and doesn’t speak as we stride down the hall and enter the parking garage. But once the large metal door clanks behind us, shutting out the rest of the building, he gently grasps the back of my elbow and ushers me to his fancy ass blue sports car that I’m sure costs more than my apartment rent for five years.
With his hand on my skin, I’m liquid. He opens the door and helps me in. The moment he shuts the door to walk around the car, I take a deep breath trying my best to quell the nervous lust brewing inside of me.
“Where to?” he asks with a devilish grin.
“Union City,” I mutter, suddenly feeling shy.
I’m sure he lives upscale and I’m in an unstylish apartment.
We drive in quiet with only the purrs of the engine and the sound of the wind flowing past the car for half of the trip before he breaks the silence. “Tell me again why you don’t have a car.”
“I’m in walking distance of almost everything. I don’t see the need for one.” It’s the truth even if it’s half a lie.
“What do you do if you want to take a trip outside of the city?”
“Rent a car,” I reply. “But I don’t travel often. Usually I visit my parents once a year.”
“You don’t feel strapped to the city because of it?” He peers at me out of the corner of his eye.
I shake my head. “I’ll get on a different train and go the opposite direction if I feel that way. Sometimes it helps to scuff up the scenery. You should try it.”
“I live downtown as well, but I still drive.”
“I see that,” I deadpan and it draws a chuckle out of him.
He pulls into the parking lot and starts to seek out a place to park. My nerves rush my every cell. The last thing I need is Easton Langley walking me to my door. “You’ve brought me home, Mr. Security. I’ve got it from here.”
I really need to work on not being so flirty.
“You sure?” His tone is laced with concern.
Our gazes meet and it feels like he’s just as unready to see me go as I am him. My body lights up, electricity crackling the air around us. There’s a tug…a lure. My spine buzzes with a magnetic pull that is becoming harder to resist. The image of his lips on mine flash behind my eyes. I blink away and quickly bound out of the car against my own desperate fantasies. As much as I want to, I don’t look back as I enter my building.