“I only need a few minutes,” he says. He fiddles with the button on the end of his shirt sleeve. They’ve got him in long-sleeved shirts while he’s doing PR stuff to cover up his tattoos. I guess tattoos aren’t family friendly enough for Team Loco anymore.
“Well, what is it?” I say.
He glances around. “Could we go somewhere private?”
“We’re in an empty hallway,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
He sighs. “Very well.”
And then he stares at me for a long moment. I don’t back away and I don’t say anything. I can tell he’s thought a lot about this very moment right here. He’s still so tall that he towers over me, but he’s temporarily a little smaller than usual. It’s fear. Or maybe anxiety.
I tilt my head. His gaze pours into me, making my heart speed up. He takes one step closer. He’s still a good dirt bike length away from me, but it feels like we’re trapped in a small room even though this hallway stretches on forever.
“Avery….” He draws in a deep breath, then takes another step closer. “You’ve done something to me.”
My eyes widen as I go on the defensive. “What? No I haven’t.”
He shakes his head, like I’m just not getting it. “It wasn’t intentional. You clearly don’t want this as much as I don’t want it.”
I kick at a small piece of lint on the carpeted floor. “Are you seriously bringing this up again?”
His tongue flicks across his bottom lip. It’s such a quick movement but it makes my entire body heat up. “Trust me,” he says, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s the last thing I want to talk about.”
“So why are you talking about it?” I say, feeling aggravated. Yeah, it was easy for me to get a crush on him. He’s freaking gorgeous after all. And all those little sweet things he’s done just really makes it hard to hate him. But he’s told me plenty of times that he doesn’t like me back, and so I’m really sick of the topic resurfacing again.
“Because I feel like I’m going to burst apart if I don’t talk about it.”
I roll my eyes. Is he seriously trying to—ugh, I don’t even know what he’s trying to do right now—make me feel sorry for him?
“Just stop it, Clay. Just stop.” I hold up my hand. “I guess this is all Keanna’s fault for bringing up the fact that we’re both single, and I’ll never forgive her for this, but seriously. Let’s just drop it, okay? It was stupid. We clearly can’t date each other.”
He nods. “I agree. We can’t.”
“It’s too risky. It’s too—”
“Doomed from the start,” he says for me.
I nod. “Exactly. You live in California—”
“And you’re in Texas.” He takes a step closer.
“And we work together and I’m sure Marcus wouldn’t like that, and I’m still an intern and—”
“Definitely wouldn’t want you to lose your job,” Clay says. His voice is deeper, a little gravely. And suddenly he’s so much closer than he was earlier. I have to tip my head back to look into his dark eyes. I breathe in his scent, ocean and something citrusy. My heart skips a beat.
I swallow. “And you don’t even like me anyway.”
“And you don’t even like me,” he says softly.
“So…” I focus on breathing. He’s so close to me it makes my entire body feel on fire. “So,” I begin again, “We can’t do this.”
His fingers are on my cheek, soft and hesitant. His eyes drop to my lips. “We definitely can’t do this.”
“So we agree,” I say, my breath hitching. “Let’s just start over and pretend none of this happened.”
His fingers are warm as they slide across my cheek. “I agree.”
I nod, a meek gesture because I feel like I’m melting right here beneath his touch. My heart leaps up into my throat. Clay’s eyes search mine, and what they’re looking for I have no idea but I desperately hope he finds it.
