“Hey, it’s what we do,” Shannon said. “And when you’re back in town, text me. We’ll get that pedicure. And some cupcakes and wine and other things boys don’t like.”
“Boys don’t have objections to wine or cupcakes,” Matthew muttered. “Boys like them very much. Boys want to be invited for cupcakes and wine, and boys will get your drunk asses home.”
“Definitely,” I said and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Thank you again, Shannon.”
“Safe travels,” she called as Matthew guided me out the door and back to his office. His touch was urgent and familiar, and I was letting myself savor this. Twenty-four hours from now, I’d be thousands of miles away and my iPhone would be serving as my primary companion.
“Happy?” Matthew asked.
“Yes. Everything is falling into place. This was the most productive day in a year, no exaggeration, and it’s because you dragged me to the bar on Friday night.”
Matthew smiled and backed me against his office door, his fingers skimming up my neck to cradle my face. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. And it involved forced drunkenness.”
“I’ve said plenty of highly complimentary things about your cock. I think I described your reboot time as remarkable.”
“You said impressive, but I’ll also allow remarkable,” he said, his lips brushing over mine. “Let’s go to your place. It’s closer, and you need to pack, and we’ll have drinks.”
I nodded, not willing to entertain a futile debate about doing anything else. His lips captured mine, and my fingers moved from his chest to the erection pressing against my belly.
“Is your desk out of the question?” I asked against his mouth.
“For what I have in mind? Yes, but if you ask one more time, I won’t be able to say no.”
A laptop clicked shut. “I’m still here.”
“Fuck me,” Matthew sighed. He dropped his forehead to my shoulder and released a ragged breath.
“Sorry, Riley,” I laughed. “I didn’t see you over there.”
“Whatever,” Riley muttered while he jammed his laptop into his backpack and unraveled a set of earbuds. “I think you want to get caught. Fuckin’ exhibitionists. I need my own goddamn office.”
“Three other conference rooms,” Matthew said under his breath.
We stepped apart, and Matthew headed for his desk to shut down his laptop. Riley shouldered his backpack and inserted his earbuds, offering me a brisk nod and closing the door behind him as he exited.
“Let’s also pretend that didn’t happen.” Matthew propped himself on the edge of his desk and pulled me between his legs. “What’ll it be, Miss Halsted?”
I smiled and nuzzled my face into his chest. “I’m hungry. I’d like some wine. And I’d be happier if I got out of these shoes. The suit, too. And you’ve invited yourself to my apartment again, as any good creeper would.”
“If I didn’t invite myself over, how else would you get out of the suit?” he laughed. He reached back and grabbed his phone. “I’ll go pick up, you go pack.” He handed it to me, and I glanced at the take-out menu on the screen. “Decide what you want.”
“Yeah,” I managed. “Sounds good.”
I stayed pressed against Matthew, scanning the take-out menu while his words echoed in my head.
Decide what you want.
They were brutal, haunting reminders that, regardless of what I kept telling myself, I had no idea what I wanted.
Chapter Fourteen
MATTHEW
Taking in themix of charmingly mismatched furniture and eclectic typography prints accented with piles upon piles of books, I felt the warmth of Lauren’s apartment surrounding me. Her home was wonderfully lived-in, a comfortable level of organized chaos, and nothing like mine.
I expected the rigid, military order I saw in her work, and guessed the lack of structure and precision in her home mirrored her more accurately. I didn’t know which versions of Lauren she wanted me to embrace—the pin-up with the dirty mouth, the unrelenting workaholic who kicked and screamed every time she was separated from her smartphone, the quirky girl who filled her home with a rainbow of velvet pillows and funky art, or the sweet, innocent teacher who offered everyone kind smiles whether they deserved them or not—but then I remembered she wasn’t thrilled about me embracing her at all. She liked her workaholic ways, and though I was kicked back on her sofa, she wasn’t keeping me around for my sparkling conversation.
She just wanted me fucking those contradictions right out of her. But at least she was keeping me around.
