There’s a welcoming and kind generosity that surrounds Remy. His sweet, gentle manner leaves me feeling comforted. I can’t explain it really. For the first time, my guard isn’t up in the presence of a man.

There’s almost this brotherly, protective demeanor about him. It’s so unlike what I feel with Andrew. From the few times Remy and I have talked, I’ve noticed the way he shields me and makes sure I'm okay. It’s nice. There’s no pressure when I'm around him. He’s easy to talk to and makes me laugh when most men have me putting up my concrete walls.

I’m inputting the last section of the notes from Miranda’s mid-afternoon meeting when my email pings, indicating a new message is in my inbox. I quickly grip my mouse and minimize the window, making my email visible.

Andrew Powers, CFO.

Just seeing his name makes my pulse quicken. Out of all the men in Chicago, I’m starting to feel something for my boss’s son. It’s crazy and irrational, but if I’m being honest, I don’t want to fight my feelings for him. I remember the loneliness from the past few years, and I miss the comfort of being with someone.

He and I have this lust-hate thing going on, and it makes us unique. I know he feels it, too. Anyone can sense it in the way he looks at me with that deep, intense stare that makes my body shiver with need. The same stare I’ve witnessed every time we’re alone and even when we aren’t sometimes. Each time, my body reacts in the same way—racing heart, heat rising in my neck and cheeks, and I have the urge to rub my thighs together to gain just a small amount of relief.

I stare at his name, fearful of opening the email. Either it’s snippy and straightforward, which I hate even though I know I shouldn’t care, or it contains some kind gesture or playful banter that makes me wish for things I know I can’t have. The idea of being friendly with Andrew, and letting him be my friend, would require me opening up my mind and my heart to the possibility of having a man in my life.

I take in a deep breath, and before I can stop myself, I click on the message.

Muffins seem to be much more appreciated than coffee. Or is it more of who delivers said gift to you?

I stare at the screen, unsure of how to respond. As I hover over the Reply button, I see the reflection of someone standing just over my left shoulder. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. Those broad shoulders of his are a distinguishing trait, and the shadow does nothing to hide them.

“So, which is it?” Andrew softly asks from behind me.

I don’t turn to face him. Being snarky and remaining distant are getting harder and harder by the day. Looking at him would only cause me to get lost in those eyes of his.

“Is it the gift or more so the fact that I was the one gifting it?”

“Andrew,” I begin.

He moves forward, bracing his hand on the desk beside me. With his nearness, I can smell the deep, spicy aroma of his cologne, and I find myself breathing in just a little more. Hands down, he has the sexiest smell, and if I could smell him every day, I would. Even though this is the closest we’ve been and nothing’s ever happened between us, Andrew Powers has ruined me for other men. No one else will ever compare. With his commanding stare and demanding body, I’ll melt to his touch and crave more.

“Drew,” he corrects.

He corrects me often. I call him Andrew just to piss him off. Now, it’s more to remain professional when everything inside me is screaming to throw caution to the wind and live again.

“I’m sorry for being unappreciative,” I apologize as I look to my left.

The sleeve of his dress shirt is rolled up, exposing his muscular and cut forearm.

“I just think that we need to keep things…” I let my words fade as I turn just a little more and realize just how close he is.

“What is it about me that terrifies you?” he asks.

“You don’t scare me,” I state. The timid vibration in my voice gives away the truth.

Andrew does terrify me. He makes me question all the rules I have for myself, and those rules have always worked for me—until now. I’m trying so hard not to give in to my feelings for him. I’m positive I can keep this up until Andrew grows tired and moves on. I have to be strong.

“I think you’re lying,” Andrew insists.

My gaze instantly falls to his lips.

“I think you’re worried that, if you give me a chance, I might not be such a bad guy. Then, you’ll no longer have grounds for avoiding me.”

I’m lost in the way his mouth moves and the way his eyes scan over my face.

“I just can’t seem to figure out why giving me a chance is a bad thing. My opinion is that you and I would be good together,” he adds, a smile tugging at his lips. “Now, I just need to figure out a way to convince you of that, too.”

I can’t speak. If I attempt to say something, anything, I’ll make a fool of myself, and then I’ll have to quit my amazing job because there’s no way I’d be able to see Andrew again. I do what I do best and remain quiet. This man tests my limits and makes the strong, confident side of me weak with need.

“Have dinner with me,” he says.

I focus on breathing. With his nearness, it’s impossible to do a simple task. I’m going to pass out in front of Andrew because I can’t breathe. No matter what, even if I can’t breathe, I’m sure he can hear the rapid beating of my heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Just you and me, no business-related topics, no cute little boys stealing the spotlight.”

I smile, thinking of Dawson, and when I look back at Andrew, he, too, is smiling.

Oh, that smile.

This is how he’s going to break me down—with his relentlessness, smile, and adorable son.

“He is exceptionally cute.”

“He gets it from me.” He smirks, and the heaviness I felt only moments ago suddenly feels a little lighter. “I promise, nothing more than dinner and talking. I want to get to know you, Reagan,” he confesses.

My mind screams no, but my heart is saying it’s time to take a chance and leap forward.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Dinner,” I add.

“You won’t regret it,” he assures me as he leans in closer and presses a soft, gentle kiss to my cheek.

My eyes flutter shut, and I take it in. I fight against the urge to move away because, for once, I want to feel normal.

I know Andrew won’t hurt me.

“Tomorrow evening?” he asks as he stands tall.

I look up at him. I offer a nod, which seems to only please him more.

I watch as he walks away, those charcoal-colored slacks covering his legs and ass so perfectly. Andrew Powers is perfection. He’s powerful, dominating, and confident. All the characteristics that I should be avoiding, yet these are the characteristics that make me want him. I pray he’s not like other men, thinking he can get away with anything because of his looks and status.

No, Andrew’s different.

“What am I doing?” I ask myself just as he disappears around the corner.