“I’m so sorry,” she says. She turns and runs.
Here’s something I didn’t know: Corrine Blunt is really, really fast.
Chapter 16: Corrine
My apartment door opens with a subtle creak. My keys clatter where they land on the kitchen counter. My shoes end up somewhere in the living room. Not bothering to take off my sweaty clothes, I open a bottle of wine, reefing on the corkscrew until the cork pops out. Pouring the red wine into a short glass, I take a long sip.
Despite the external mess, each of my thoughts is calm, processed. My heart beats at a steady rhythm. But my arms and legs tingle. My lips burn like his breath is still hot on them. I think I’m in shock.
“This can never happen again,” I say to no one.
Whatever I thought I felt about Wesley Chambers, it has to stop. I’m still not sure I can identify the feelings. Images of Wesley in his baseball uniform whisper at the edge of my mind. My eyes had travelled down his body. His long, long body. And I’d wondered, what was underneath that jersey. What was underneath those pants. What would that belt sound like if I pulled the leather from the buckle?
“Get over it,” I say to my reflection in the dark windows across from me. I have more important things to worry about than Wesley Chambers.
My mother. Myjob.
And besides, I’ve never gotten involved with a man from work. Especially a man who reports to me. What am I thinking? Assuming he’d be interested in getting involved with me—hisboss—after what I’ve done to him. Laughable. I take another sip of my wine. But it’s sour, acidic on my tongue despite being new. I should go for a run or go to the gym. Burn off these ridiculous feelings, sweat until the only panic I can feel is for my next breath and not the grenade I just launched into both our careers.
What I should do is think about damage control. Ikissedmy intern. With mymouth.
Couldhe be interested?
“No.”
My face is stern in the reflection in the glass.
I don’t do this, fall headfirst into misguided attraction.
Still, I wait for the panic to set in. But my brain doesn’t belong in my body anymore. If it wasn’t for the fact that I can see myself in the window’s reflection, see my feet on the floor of my condo, I’d think I was floating away. I am untethered. A string, slowly pulled from the hem of a sweater. Soon I’ll just be a pile on the ground.
My mouth is warm. My neck still tingles, where his lips brushed my skin. A shiver rolls down my spine and I close my eyes. My pulse trips against my throat.
I see him sleeping on his desk after an all-nighter, his face resigned as I dished every imaginable task at him; the way he stepped forward today with Richard, his shoulders back, his face harder than I’ve ever seen it. I’ve never asked for help before, but just knowing he was there, a safe place to fall back on—my heart feels on fire.
I open my eyes.
Jesus.
What have I done?
Chapter 17: Wesley
There are extra pairs of shoes in my foyer. Heels higher than anything Amy would ever wear, two sets of sneakers, a worn pair of red high tops, and old Birkenstocks that can only belong to one person. I blink at them for a beat before I remember: Amy’s surprise.
“Chen?”I call.
From the living room he yells,“Chambers!”
Toeing my shoes off and throwing my bag down, I rush to the living room. Jeremy meets me in the hallway and grabs me by my shoulders, shaking me while simultaneously reeling me in for a back-slapper. My head spins as I’m engulfed. Amy had a cat in elementary school that she’d carry around the house. Her love for him sometimes overwhelmed her, to the point that she’d squeeze him, perhaps a little too hard. I feel like that cat, my eyes bulging, my rib cage constricted by this guy I’ve known almost as long as I’ve known my sister.
“How’s it going, man?” His voice is muffled as he speaks into my shoulder. Jeremy has always been an affectionate guy.
I pull away a little too fast. I can still smell the coconut on me, mixed with sweat and outdoors. Kissing her feels written on my skin for him to read. Her fingerprints the ink.
“Good. Busy.”
Jeremy smiles—because that’s what Jer does. I try to think of something to say. But the only words my brain can conjure are:
