He moved past me—close enough for me to catch the warm scent of his skin—and grabbed another sleek piece of equipment.
“Is this your way of apologizing, Phoenix?”
“Does that condescending tone come naturally to you?”
“Does your ability to deflect anything involving real emotions come naturally to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then, yes.”
He knelt beneath my desk again, and despite every warning bell going off in my brain, my gaze drifted—yep.Levi’s perfection. Thighs like tree trunks. That jeans-to-muscle ratio? Unfair.
Heat crept up the back of my neck.
What is wrong with me?I was a professional. A psychologist. And I was ogling a patient who’d destroyed my office twenty-four hours ago.
He stood, eyes flicking to mine. Caught.
I snapped my attention to the scattered papers on my desk and began stacking them like they were the most fascinating things I’d ever seen.
“I want you to know you didn’t need to do this,” I said, my voice tighter than I intended.
“Yes, I did. I damaged your equipment, so I replaced it.”
Black and white. No room for nuance.
“Well…” I repositioned the tissue box, grabbed a tissue I didn’t need. “Thank you.”
And that was that.
“Well.” I repositioned the tissue box and fluffed one from the top. “Thank you.”
And that was that. Within minutes, my janky old computer system had been replaced with a shiny robot that made me want to do backflips.
He pressed the power button and the system beeped to life. The screen lit up, and for a brief, ridiculous moment, I felt a flicker of joy. It was a command center, right there on my desk. Beautiful. Stunning.
His large, calloused hand rested on the mouse—steady, sure—as he clicked through a few setup screens. My gaze lingered on his fingers, thick, strong.
“Need your password.”
I stepped beside him and leaned over. He didn’t budge. Our arms brushed, sending a rush of warmth over my skin.
I glanced at him. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” His eyes weren’t on the monitor.
They were on me. Specifically—my hips.
Oh God.
I nudged him aside, typed in my embarrassingly long password, and pretended not to feel his gaze lingering.
He nudged me back and regained control. A few more clicks, and he stepped away. “There you go.”
“Wow. It’s amazing.” I looked at him—longer than I meant to. “Thank you. Again. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes I did.”
