Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“You didn’t run off?” he asks, his voice a little quieter than before.
“I came to work. I have a lot to do at this place you’ve been running into the ground.”
He nods and crosses the space between us to sit down next to me. He’s just far enough away that I’d have to reach out to touch him. “Right. Good.”
“You’re not going to make me have The Talk here, are you?” I ask.
“The Talk?”
“Yeah, you know, where you tell me how you were drunk and upset about Caroline Hammond or whatever, and last night was—”
“Fucking epic. Wanna do it again?” He smiles but it’s less shit-eating and more… hopeful. I’ve seen Leo Hart work a room. He knows how to turn on the charm. But when he’s being awkward and a bit goofy? That’s when I like him best.
I can’t help but laugh and my nerves drift away. He doesn’t regret last night. Neither do I. The idea warms my muscles and relaxes me, like my entire body was gripping on to something I can now release.
“So why are you here?” I ask, avoiding his question.
“I told you, I brought you lunch.” He rolls back his shoulders, his white shirt sleeves clinging to his arm muscles. I wonder if he’s feeling the effects of last night, too. “I didn’t even know this was up here. It’s got railings and everything.” He pulls a bottle of water out of the bag and twists open the cap. He takes a sip. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs under his warm skin. I want to press my lips to his heat.
My eyes flicker up to his. I’ve been caught staring.
He offers me the bottle.
I don’t want water. I want to make out with him, right here and right now. But I settle for the drink. Our fingers brush as I take the bottle from his hands. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that sends my heart into free fall in my chest, a stone kicked off the edge of a bottomless well.
I smile and put my lips to the bottle, just like his were a minute ago. I taste him there. My mouth begins to buzz.
My radio bleeping interrupts our little staring contest. I turn the volume down. If anyone wants me, Joan knows where to find me.
“It’s a great size,” I say. “Incredible views. And you’re going to invest in it.”
His eyes widen. “Am I?”
I scrunch up my nose. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it so aggressively. “It should be guest space. You’ll see when I show you the plans. Just keep an open mind.”
“I’ll listen to anything you say,” he says. His gaze drops to my lips, then flit back to my eyes. Desire stirs inside me. I want to slide onto his lap and kiss him for the rest of the day. From the look in his eye, I’m starting to think he wants that, too.
“What time are you back tonight?” he asks. “I have a work thing. Drinks, but—”
“I’m out with Sophia. When I told her about the engagement…” I trail off. I tried to tell her with No Big Deal energy, but it didn’t work. We kind of danced around the subject of Leo and how he needed a fake fiancée and now he has a real fiancée. She knows, but she hasn’t asked me directly and I’m grateful. After congratulating me, she started asking about the logistics of subletting my room. I told her that since my fiancé is a billionaire, I’d be happy to pay rent until the end of the year. What she doesn’t know, but might suspect, is that I’ll be back in that room well before the year’s end.
“You’re celebrating,” he says.
As soon as the word is out of his mouth, I put my hands over my face. “Oh god. I hope tonight isn’t an impromptu bachelorette party.”
“Relax,” he says. “You’re just going out with your friend.”
“I hate not being able to speak freely to her. And I really hate lying to my mom. She hasn’t even met you and I’ve agreed to marry you. She’s going to think I’ve lost my mind.”
“I can meet her if you want me to,” he says.
I start to laugh. I can’t help myself. “So you can start lying to her, too? I can see us getting married for real, just because it’s easier than lying to everyone all the time.”
“I can get us booked on a flight to Vegas tonight. Oh, but I have that work thing and you’re on your bachelorette.”
“It will have to wait ’til the weekend,” I deadpan. “Oh but tomorrow’s Saturday. Gosh darn it, I have plans. Maybe next weekend?”
His phone goes off, but his eyes are on me as he pulls it out of his pocket. I can’t place the expression in his eyes. Is it lust? An appreciation of my humor? Something else? He glances down at his phone and silences it.