Relief made his knees weak. He perched his backside on the counter, hoping the casual pose would mask the fact that he couldn’t stand without the extra support.
“I didn’t realize that was an option,” Daniel finally said after ensuring that his voice wouldn’t expose the last dregs of apprehension still creeping along his nerve endings.
Her lips twitched, and the pout she wore curved upward. “I’m just messing with you. Well, kinda. I really could have used that massage.”
“Sorry,” Daniel said. “It was a good one too.” He flexed his right hand. “Just what these digits needed after all that coding.”
He chuckled at her outraged gasp.
“You’re going to rub it in?” Samiah shook her head, her eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. “And all this time I thought you were one of the nice ones.”
“I am a nice one.”
“Maybe.” Her reluctant smile was the sexiest thing he’d seen since the last time he saw her smile. A familiar heat flared to life again, warming the blood that pulsed through his veins. The intensity grew stronger with every minute he spent in her presence.
“If I’d known it was an option, that massage would have been yours.” He reached for her hand, but pulled back before touching her. He arched his brow, seeking her permission.
She unfolded her arms and held out her hand. Her demure grin broadened as she gave him a slight nod.
After securing her consent, Daniel gently kneaded her soft palm, parroting the motions the massage therapisthad made earlier, working his thumbs along the fleshy pad of her hand then moving up to her fingers. The satiny feel of her skin drugged his senses. Had he ever felt anything this soft?
He had to mentally pull himself back when he noticed his breaths growing shallow. He was treading on dangerous ground here. Over these past two weeks his attraction to her had intensified to an outrageous level. He could feel her nearness on his skin.
He’d told himself this was nothing more than a harmless workplace crush. He’d had a few of those since his breakup with Joelle. One of those crushes had even led to a couple of dates with a coworker in the Liaison Division back at FinCEN.
But this felt different. It felt…charged. And as he relished the softness of Samiah’s palm against his fingertips, his ability to call his feelings inconsequential was dwindling. He should have dropped her hand and walked away. Instead he asked, “Are you still upset I didn’t give you my massage?”
“Yes,” she said. She tipped her head to the side, her grin turning devilish. “You’re good and all, but I’m sure the professionals were better.”
“You’re right. They were amazing.”
She snatched her hand back and stuck her tongue out at him. Daniel laughed, and recaptured her hand.
“What if I perfected my technique? Would that be enough to make up for my mistake?”
Awareness saturated the air around them. It was dense and electric and not something he had ever experienced while working a normal operation.
Samiah’s eyes dropped to their hands. He could feel her fingers tremble as she cautiously slid them from his grasp.
“I…uh…I need to get back to my office.”
It had shaken her too. He could hear it in her voice. Daniel sucked in a breath, then slowly released it.
“Yeah. Yeah, me too.” He hooked his thumb toward his desk. “Well, I don’t have an office, but you know, back to my cubicle. Desk,” he corrected. “It’s just a desk. No cubicles here, which is a little weird, but whatever.”
Fuck.He was stammering like a scared teenage boy asking his dream girl out on a date.
“Privacy isn’t high on Trendsetters’ list of priorities.” Her smile was a touch more subtle this time, as if she was afraid to show too much emotion. She wiggled her fingers in a friendly wave. “Thanks for the massage.”
He watched her walk away, mentally lambasting himself for allowing that to go as far as it had. He could barely keep his head about him just being near her. What did he think would happen when he actuallytouchedher?
He couldn’t let himself touch her again. No matter how damn soft her hands were.
***
Scrutinizing the handwritten notes from one of the half-dozen steno pads and mountain of Post-its strewn about her living room sofa, Samiah took a swig from the bottle of elderberry kombucha she’d picked up on her last grocery store run. She still wasn’t sold on it, but the fermented tea was starting to grow on her.
She referenced a sketch of the interface she’d drawn up years ago, noting that she would now have to rework most of it because of the changes in tech design that had been made in just the few years since she’d first come up with the idea for Just Friends. Everything these days was much more streamlined, not clunky and crowded.
