"That's your name."
I shake my head slightly. "Not to you. Not anymore."
I lean down, my lips brushing the delicate shell of her ear, close enough that I can feel the slight hitch in her breath as she tenses.
"I told you that you could call me Bash," I murmur, letting my voice drop into that lower register that always makes her blink too fast.
She turns her head slowly and suddenly we're suspended in that dizzying space between one breath and the next, closer than we've been since last weekend. Her lips part slightly, the pink flush racing down her throat betraying her as her gaze flickers to my mouth and back up.
"I know," she breathes, the words barely audible.
The air between us crackles with something dangerously close to inevitability. Her freckles, those maddening, scattered constellations across her nose are more obvious this close, and suddenly I need to catalog every last one. I can count every rapid flutter of her lashes, see the pulse jumping at the base of her throat. She smells like warm vanilla and it's taking every ounce of my self-control not to bury my face in the curve of her neck right here in her goddamn office.
I lift my hand deliberately slow, telegraphing my movement, but she doesn't retreat like I expect. She just watches, wary but curious, as I tuck a stubbornwave behind her ear. My knuckles graze the impossibly soft skin of her cheek, and Jesus, she's perfect.
"Charlie," I whisper, and it comes out rough around the edges, a question and a plea all at once.
Her eyelashes sweep down, dark against her flushed cheeks, and I'm lost. I lean in, the world narrowing to the scant centimeter between our lips, close enough to taste the coffee on her breath—
A sharp knock on the doorframe shatters the moment.
"Morning, Char! I brought—oh!" Zoe stands frozen in the doorway, coffee carrier in hand, mouth hanging open.
Charlie practically teleports back behind her desk, cheeks flaming. I take two swift steps backward, clearing my throat.
"Zoe! Hi! Good morning!" Charlie's voice is at least an octave higher than normal.
"I... brought coffee?" Zoe says, her statement sounding more like a question.
"Thank you," I say smoothly, recovering faster than Charlie. "Charlie was just telling me that she needed some coffee. We're discussing the, uh, Adrenaline Athletics account."
"Right. The account." Charlie nods too enthusiastically. "Very important... strategy... things."
Zoe's eyebrows climb toward her hairline. "Strategy things. Got it." She sets the coffee carrier on Charlie's desk, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "Amelia just pulled in, by the way. The office team meeting starts in fifteen."
"Perfect timing," Charlie says, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Thank you, Zoe."
When Zoe leaves, Charlie finally looks at me, her expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
"That," she says pointedly, "is exactly why we need boundaries."
I run a hand through my hair, suppressing a smile. "Because Zoe brought coffee?"
"You know what I mean."
I do know. But I can't bring myself to regret it. Not when I can still see the lingering heat in her eyes, not when I know she wanted that kiss as much as I did.
"I'll book my tickets," I say, backing toward the door. "See you in fifteen."
"Yup." Her voice is ice cold.
I duck out before she can throw something at me, but I swear I hear her mutter "insufferable" under her breath. I'm still grinning when I reach my office.
Sunday suddenly feels very far away.
Chapter fifteen
Bash
