Rebecca was watching me with that calculating expression again. I ignored her and called on Claire instead.
"Claire, in your manuscript, your protagonist claims she doesn't want to get married. But what does she actually do?"
"She keeps a wedding Pinterest board," Claire said, smiling. "That she thinks her boyfriend doesn't know about."
"Perfect. That contradiction tells us everything about her internal conflict. She wants the commitment but is afraid to admit it. To herself or to him."
I glanced at Jason again—couldn't help it—and found him looking right back at me. The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, and I had to look away before anyone noticed.
By the time we broke for lunch, my nerves were frayed from the constant attention.
***
The rest of the afternoon dragged. We did scene work, discussed pacing, and I managed to keep my eyes from seeking out Jason more than I should have.
But God, it was hard.
Every time someone asked a question, I glanced his way to see his reaction. When he raised his hand to contribute, my pulse jumped. And once, when he met my eyes across the room and smiled—that small, secret smile that was only for me—I completely lost my train of thought mid-sentence.
By the time the evening social rolled around, I was exhausted from the effort of pretending. From keeping my distance when all I wanted to do was pull him into a corner and kiss him until neither of us could breathe.
Someone had decorated the great room with more lights, and the scent of mulled wine and cinnamon filled the air. Holiday music played—jazzy versions of Christmas classics. The holiday season was taking over and people clustered in small groups, wine glasses in hand, talking shop and laughing.
I lasted an hour before I couldn't take it anymore. I caught Jason's eye across the room and gave him a slight nod toward the door. He waited exactly five minutes—long enough to be subtle—before following.
The hallway was empty and quiet, the sounds of the party muffled behind us. I'd barely made it to the alcove near the stairs when I heard his footsteps behind me.
"Hey," he said, breathless.
"Hey." I pulled him into the alcove, pressed him against the wall, and kissed him.
He made a surprised sound that turned into a moan, his hands coming up to grip my shoulders. I kissed him harder, all the longing and frustration of the day pouring into it.
"Missed you," I breathed against his mouth.
"We've been in the same room all day."
"Not close enough." I kissed him again, deeper this time, my hands sliding to his hips. "Not nearly close enough."
"Brent." His voice was shaky, his pupils blown wide behind his glasses. "Someone could see us."
"I know." But I couldn't make myself pull away. Not yet. "One more minute."
"If Rebecca catches us, we'll never hear the end of it."
"Worth it," I murmured against his mouth, and kissed him again until we were both gasping.
When footsteps sounded down the hall, we sprang apart, both breathing hard. Jason's lips were swollen, his hair messed up from my hands. I probably looked just as wrecked.
"Later," I promised.
"Later," he agreed, and the heat in his eyes made my pulse jump.
We returned to the social separately but the promise hung between us for the rest of the evening.
***
When I finally made it back to the suite around ten, Jason was already there. He looked up from his laptop when I came in, and the intensity in his gaze stole my breath.
