I need her rattled. Need her thinking about me the way I think about her. Need her to stop running and face what’s between us.
I tried patience. I tried giving her space. I tried being gentle.
None of it is working. So maybe it’s time to try something else.
I pull up her employee file and check her schedule. She has a late meeting tomorrow in the conference room on my floor. Standard quarterly review that I don’t usually attend.
Tomorrow, I’m attending.
And this time, when she tries to run, I’m not letting her.
12
SAVANNAH
The saladin front of me might as well be plastic for how much I’m actually tasting it.
I push a piece of lettuce around with my fork, watching it slide through the dressing without actually eating it. The cafeteria is busy with the lunch rush, people laughing and talking around us, but I feel like I’m underwater. Everything is muffled and distant.
“Okay, that’s it.” Jenna sets down her sandwich and leans across the table. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’ve said you’re fine like six times this week, and you’re clearly not.” She gestures at my untouched salad. “You’re not eating. You look exhausted. And you keep zoning out like you’re somewhere else.”
I am somewhere else. I’m on a balcony in Chicago with cold air and warm lips and hands that felt like they knew exactly where to touch me.
“It’s just a guy,” I say finally.
“A guy?” Her eyes light up. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I met someone recently, and it’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“Just complicated. We kissed, and now I can’t stop thinking about it, but I don’t know if it was a mistake or if it meant something or—” I stop myself before I say too much. “It’s a mess.”
Jenna nods like she understands completely. “I get it. I’ve been seeing this guy I met at a bar a few weeks ago, and it’s the same thing. Like, the chemistry is insane, but I don’t know if he’s serious or just messing around.”
“Exactly.”
“So what are you going to do about your guy?”
“I don’t know. Avoid him, probably.”
She laughs. “That’s a terrible plan.”
“It’s the only plan I have.”
“Well, whatever. It’s the weekend. Live a little, okay?”
I nod.
We finish lunch, and I go back to my desk, but my mind isn’t on work. It’s on him. On the way he looked at me in Chicago.
I miss his lips.
The thought hits me out of nowhere, and I have to physically stop myself from touching my own mouth. I miss the way he tasted. The way he kissed like he was claiming me. The way hishands felt on my waist, pulling me closer like he couldn’t get enough.
