“I can’t believe you shot me,” I say to Angela over dinner.

“I can’t believe neither of you noticed me standing next to you,” she retorts.

“Yeah, about that—”

“No need to explain,” she replies, interrupting me.

The grin she’s sporting has been permanently fixed on her face since we got home. I know what she’s thinking. I know what she thought she saw. Nothing would have happened. I keep telling myself that, but I know I don’t believe it. The way he was looking at me has been playing on repeat in my head. I can’t shut it off.

“But—”

“Really. If I had seen what was about to happen, I never would have shot you.”

“Nothing was about to happen,” I insist defensively.

“If that’s your story,” she says, pouring herself another glass of tea. “I guess we’ll see what Saturday night brings.”

Angela didn’t just shoot me, she shot Ryder too. We lost. Last place. The first team out of the competition. Angela was shot shortly after, but no one had the balls to shoot Herman. That doesn’t surprise me, but it made me wonder how Ryder won last year. It wasn’t until Tyler started teasing him ruthlessly that I found out Ryder was the one who shot his father to win the competition.

So we’re buying dinner for Herman and Angela. That should be an interesting evening. At least I’ll have Angela by my side. Having dinner with two of my bosses is going to be nerve-racking, no matter the reason. Plus, I have to dress up. It’s five-star dining, which means suit jackets for men and dresses and heels for women. It’ll probably be the nicest place I’ve ever eaten. Thank God I don’t have to pay for it. That would be at least a week’s paycheck and if I ever want to move out of Angela’s place, I need to save my money.

* * *

As the elevator slowly rises, my hands start to shake. I’ve been nervous about a lot of things in my life, but going to work has never been one of them before. The first day, maybe a little. A month later, never. My nerves have little to do with work and everything to do with my boss.

I haven’t spoken to Ryder since we parted ways after paint-ball yesterday, but he’s all I’ve been able to think about. I even dreamed of him last night. Our “almost kiss,” as Angela insisted it was, was center stage, only in my dream, we actually kissed. It was amazing. Toe-curling, breath-stealing amazing. I can only imagine a kiss from someone like Ryder would be like that.

I’ll never know.

Because he’s my boss.

It can’t happen, no matter how many times I think or dream about it.

Helen’s warm greeting puts me at ease as I step off the elevator and into reality. Ryder’s door is open, and he hollers for me as soon as I sit down in my chair.

It’s all business this morning. He needs a list of things before lunch, and I’m happy to oblige. The tedious tasks will keep my mind from wandering. It’s not until I reach the last file folder that I remember I’m working late tonight.

Alone. With Ryder.

That’s the perfect way to feed the rumor mill. If Angela saw us yesterday, who else did? I don’t have to wait long to find out.

“So,” Allison starts as soon as I sit down next to her for lunch. “How did you like paintball?”

“It was okay,” I reply, avoiding eye contact. “Not really my thing.”

“Did you have fun?” she asks, attempting to dig a little deeper judging by the fact that she’s turned her entire body toward me.

“I guess. We lost so, you know, I didn’t get a chance to play really.”

“True, but now you get to have dinner with Ryder,” Justine states from across the table.

“And Herman. That’s going to be awkward,” I point out, trying to shift the conversation away from me and Ryder.

“Right. That’s going to be awful,” Allison notes sarcastically. “You’ll have to tell us all about it on Monday.”

“Of course,” I reply, forcing a smile at each of them.

The room falls silent as they go back to picking at their salads and I drink my Diet Coke, my stomach turning from our conversation. They definitely saw us. I bet everyone did. The rumor mill is going to have a field day for the next few weeks. It feels like things were finally quieting down and now this.

Why did he have to look at me like that?

Why can’t he be an unattractive asshole?

Life would be so much easier if he wasn’t sex on a stick. I wouldn’t be attracted to him if he were the devil. I wouldn’t want him to kiss me if I wasn’t attracted to him.

Ryder pokes his head in the break room, saying he needs me as soon as I’m finished. Oh, I’m finished. I can’t eat anything right now. My stomach is in knots about tonight and tomorrow night. I’m afraid to be alone with him. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself. If he leans too close…

The girls snicker as I trash my lunch and walk out. I swear I hear them mimic Ryder as the door closes behind me.

“What’s up?” I ask as I walk into his office.

“The Cover Me in Jewelry file, I can’t find it. I had it this morning and now it’s missing. I need you to help me look for it.”

He’s feverishly moving things around on his desk before I can stop him. I watch as the panicked look on his face grows. He obviously cares about his job, about his clients. More than anyone else I’ve ever worked with.

“It’s on my desk,” I reply, ducking out of his office to grab the folder and my notepad from yesterday. Maybe we can go over things right now instead of tonight. If we can come up with a solid plan this afternoon, maybe I won’t need to stay late. “Here,” I say, handing it to him as he rounds his desk.

“Thank God. I thought I had lost it. It has all my notes in it.”

“Speaking of notes,” I begin, “I had a few of my own. Do you want to work on that right now, before your afternoon meeting?”

“Sure.”

“Great,” I reply, taking a seat on the couch and opening my notepad.

This is my opportunity to shine. I should be nervous, but I’m not. I’m confident and excited and ready to show Ryder that I can be more than just his assistant someday.

That is, until he sits down next to me.

And rests his arm on the back of the couch behind my neck.

Close enough that every hair on my body stands up, goosebumps covering my skin.

He’s close, too close.

His door is still open and I can only image what the rumor mill would have to say about this. Seeing us like this, sitting close, would only add fuel to the fire.

“So,” he begins. “What did you come up with?”

Fumbling through my notebook, I rattle off all the ideas I wrote down this morning. Ryder listens intently, not moving an inch until I finish rambling. I felt his eyes on me as I spoke. They wandered up and down my body. There isn’t much to see. I’m wearing pants and a button up shirt, but he seemed to enjoy what he was looking at if the smile on his face was any indication.

“You were paying attention. I think they’ll like your second idea. We should run with that.”

Ryder moves to stand, his arm brushing against mine as I get a whiff of his aftershave, the smell causing my knees to go weak. It’s a damn good thing I’m sitting down.

“What about you? What did you come up with?”

“Nothing as good as you did,” he replies, taking a seat behind his desk and opening his laptop. “Can you write up a formal proposal? I’d like to be able to deliver that to them Monday for approval.”

“You want me to write it?” I ask, shock evident in every word I speak.

“It’s your idea.”

“It’s your client.”

“I don’t take credit for ideas that aren’t mine. I told you we were in this one together.”

Straightening my shoulders, I nod before gathering my things to leave.

“I’ll get started. You’ll have it before the end of the day.”

True to my word, I hand Ryder a complete proposal just before five o’clock. Once I got started, the ideas began to flow and it became effortless. Writing proposals and campaigns was one of my favorite things in college. I was able to let my creativity explode onto the pages, my passion for the project evident in each idea.

I sit nervously across from Ryder as he reads through the proposal, his eyes darting back and forth. When he finishes, he moves around his desk to sit across from me.

“This is great, Emerson. The clients are going to be impressed. Your ideas are unique, but I think that’s what they need to give them an edge over their competition. Great job.”

“Thanks,” I say, standing and reaching out for his extended hand.

His touch is gentle, caring. This is not what a handshake feels like. They should be firm and professional. It should feel business like and this is the exact opposite. This feels personal, sexual.

When Ryder steps forward, entering my personal space, I move to step back. My calves bump the chair I was sitting in and I stop dead in my tracks, teetering on my heels. Ryder places his hands on my waist to steady me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I look up to find Ryder staring down at me. He’s in need of a haircut. A few strands are loosely hanging in front of his eyes, but that doesn’t take away the from their beauty, or the lust I see in them.

“Emerson, I—”

“Please don’t.”

Studying me for a moment, Ryder slowly removes his hands and steps back.

“Thank you, again.” His tone has gone from friendly to professional. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I say, turning to leave.

“Dinner. For losing at paintball.”

Shit. I forgot about that. Slowly turning to face him, I find Ryder shuffling through papers on his desk.

“That’s right,” I say feigning excitement. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

“What time should I pick you up?” he asks, not bothering to look up.

“That’s not necessary. I can meet you there.”

“Really, it’s not a problem. Parking is non-existent down there, so I’d rather you ride with me and not have to walk that far to the restaurant alone.”

“Um… okay.”

“It’s a black-tie-kind-of-place so make sure you dress accordingly.”

“Little black dress, check,” I say sarcastically.

“Great. Are you still at the same address?” he asks, finally making eye contact again.

Address? Shit. The only address they have on file for me is Ian’s apartment.

“I’m actually staying with Angela right now,” I reply before I can censor my words.

This is not a conversation I want to have right now. It’s definitely not a conversation I want to have with him. It doesn’t affect my performance at work and it never will.

“Really? Why’s that?”

“You know, things change,” I mutter.

“Everything okay?”

“Just great,” I reply, waving my hand in the air. I want nothing more than to change the subject right now. Talking about Ian brings my emotions to the surface. He doesn’t need to see that.

“I’ll get directions from Tyler, then. See you tomorrow night, Emerson.”

“Thanks,” I say, turning and bolting from his office as fast as I can.

The entire drive home, all I can think about it how close Ryder sat to me on the couch. How close he came to leaning down and kissing me. Again.

These are things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. Ever.

My boss. Me. Together. Kissing.

The feel of his hands on my waist.

The warmth of his body pressed close to mine.

My growing desire for more from him.

All those things should be as far from my mind as possible. Yet here they are. Front and center. Thoughts of him distract me from my work. He invades my dreams at night. He’s everywhere I turn. All I have to do is think about him and he’s there, day or night. Real or a figment of my imagination.

It’s annoying and amazing all at the same time. Scary and exciting. Right and wrong.