I remove the seal as instructed, which comes off easily, and toss it in the trash can. Holding both ends of the toner all casual-like, as if I’m a pro?—
“Wait—”
I give it a good shake.
And splatter black powder all over my shirt, the floor…the wall?
Fuckballs.
I hear soft snickering, and turn to see Tyler pinching the bridge of his nose, seemingly holding back tears. Dammit.
“You might want to wait to remove the seal until after you’ve shaken it,” he says.
I pat at the black powder on my blouse. “And you’re just now informing me of this?”
“I tried to stop you. You acted like you knew what you were doing. Or were you pretending?” His eyes say he knows the answer to that question.
“Jerk.”
“Hey,” he chuckles, closing the door as another worker tries to peek inside, “don’t get mad at me.” He steps closer and surveys the debris. “It’s not so bad. Keep your voice down and we can get it cleaned up without anyone knowing.”
Tyler removes the toner cartridge from my hands and inserts it into the machine, expertly closing the cover and resetting a couple of buttons.
He looks at my white blouse covered in inky soot. “That’s a goner.”
“You think?” I say, pure sarcasm.
I hastily grab paper towels from inside the storage cabinet and wipe the soot from my hands. Tyler tears off a paper towel as well and starts dabbing at my sleeve, my chest, which I realize is also splattered with toner. Excellent.
He reaches for a spot near my collarbone, and his knuckle grazes my nipple. It’s cold in here, and I’m agitated, and well, I’m a bit nippy.
I must gasp—I sure as hell stand stock-still—because Tyler stops what he’s doing. He stares at his hand an inch from my breast now, frozen in mid-wipe. He doesn’t say anything. The awkward tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Then his gaze lifts to my eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily.
His empty hand moves up and I watch it warily. Suddenly, the tension doesn’t feel so much like awkward, more like another type of tension I’m not used to, but sense on a regular basis around Tyler. He cups my jaw, the tips of his long, warm fingers grazing the nape of my neck.
I close my eyes. I know where this is going. I feel it. The irresistible pull. I can’t look. I’m on a rollercoaster about to drop off the highest hill, and I won’t look to see if he follows through with the promise in his eyes.
Warm lips meet mine and the faintest moan escapes my throat.
Oh God. I’ve waited so long. I didn’t know I was waiting, but I have been. Waiting for Tyler.
His fingers slide into my hair, his hand angling my head while his mouth delves deeper, the touch of his tongue hitting me in places far more south. I’m dizzy, my heart pounding in my chest as our mouths collide, retract for soft kisses, then melt together again. I don’t dare lift my hands and touch him, afraid I’ll break the spell.
The sound of a throat clearing has Tyler breaking away. He stares at me with heat in his eyes before glancing over his shoulder.
“Hello, Ms. Tate. I was just leaving,” he says hurriedly, his voice gruff. He glances at me with an enigmatic look, then steps out the door, while Hayden passes into the room.
I don’t remember the door opening. I didn’t hear anything except the pounding of my heart as Tyler kissed me—in front of my boss.
This is a classy place, and I’m making out in the copy room. Great, just great.
“Hayden,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
She shuts the door, and turns to me. “He’s cute,” she whispers, though it’s only us in here.
“I—what?”
“I mean, you guys shouldn’t—you know—at work, but you definitely should. I almost walked out. I felt like I was intruding.” She fans her face. “I need to get out more, because that was”—she nods as if agreeing with herself—“hot.”
