“Sapio-what?” I was almost in a trance, trapped by his intense gaze on mine. The word ‘sexual’ sent a shiver of need straight to my core.
“Sapiosexual. It means someone who’s attracted to highly intelligent people.”
We were both whispering now, as if any loud sound would destroy the odd magic happening between us.
I swallowed softly. “I guess I am.”
“I wasn’t… until now.”
He reached out and gently cupped the back of my neck, bringing his face close to mine. Then his mouth found mine, warm and sure. I gripped a handful of his tank top, my fingers grazing the steel curves of muscle beneath. When his tongue slid against mine, I moaned into the kiss, heat blooming low in my belly. His other hand was on my waist, drawing me closer to him. His mouth was giving, demanding, impossible to resist. His scent was intoxicating. I wanted more. I wanted all of him. I was desperate to feel every inch of his body next to mine. The depth and intensity of his kiss told me that he felt the same way.
I had no idea what might’ve happened if a loud noise hadn’t snapped us apart like guilty teenagers. Would he have laid me out right there on the concrete floor and torn off my clothes? I’d never know. My body still trembled with the aftershocks of lust, heart racing, breath shallow, skin flushed.
I scrambled upright, legs unsteady. I was mortified—and still wildly turned on.
Mr. Yamaguchi stood in the doorway, barely visible behind his enormous laundry basket.
Grateful and humiliated in equal measure, I bolted toward him to help, mumbling something that might’ve been a greeting.What the hell had I just done? I had never lost my head like that with any guy—never.
I shook my head, half in amusement, half in horror, and reached for Mr. Yamaguchi’s basket. It was heavier than it looked.
“Let me help you with that, Mr. Yamaguchi.” I hoisted it onto one of the machines. “Why are you doing laundry so late?”
He adjusted his glasses with a harrumph. “It’s too damn hot during the day. I keep telling Mr. Gore to install an AC unit in here, but it’s like shouting into the void. And anyway, I’ve got insomnia.” He glanced up at me, then his eyes shifted to the corner, where Sebastian still sat, very strategically positioned.
“Evening, Mr. Yamaguchi.” Sebastian raised a hand in greeting, but stayed firmly planted, legs crossed like a monk hiding a scandal.
“Hey there, Sebastian. You kids were hot too, huh?”
I nearly choked. If only he knew. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, faint, or throw myself into the dryer.
Giving Sebastian a little more recovery time, I busied myself by transferring my laundry from washer to dryer, chatting with Mr. Yamaguchi as though nothing had just almost happened on the floor five feet away.
“How was your day, Mr. Yamaguchi?” I closed the door to the dryer.
“Hot.”
Seriously, was that the only word the man knew tonight?
“How was yours?” he added, starting to sort his laundry.
“It was pretty great. I meant to stop by and thank you. The social media ads you helped me put together worked. A gallery reached out. They want to feature my work in an exhibit.”
Mr. Yamaguchi beamed. “You’re very talented, Jesse. You deserve to be seen and celebrated.”
My cheeks warmed a little. “Thank you.”
Behind me, I heard Sebastian’s footsteps approaching the washer. I didn’t look. I couldn’t look. I wasn’t ready to face his... situation. Or mine. My heart was still recovering from its earlier sprint.
“So, you’re having an exhibit in a gallery?” His cheeks were still a little flushed, but he tried to sound casual. “Congratulations. That’s amazing. Let me know where and when. I’ll be there.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “You will?”
He met my gaze without hesitation. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Okay. Will Candi be with you?” I asked, aiming for polite curiosity. “I’ll need a guest list for the caterers.”
“I’m no longer seeing Candi.” His voice was calm, almost gentle. “I decided to follow your advice and find what I really want—that unique, special someone.”
