ME: Maybe stupid is worth it
LOGAN: Oh shit. You're serious
ME: Yeah. I think I am
A few seconds later…
LOGAN: Well. This is going to be entertaining
I pocket my phone and head for my own car, knowing that everything just changed.
And for the first time since Miami, I'm not entirely sure that's a bad thing.
Even if it should be.
Even if it could cost us both everything.
Because Emma Sinclair isn't just another employee.
She's become the one thing I can't afford to want…and can't seem to stop wanting anyway.
And I'm done pretending otherwise.
Chapter nine
~EMMA~
Early Tuesday morning—the morning after what will forever be known as the ‘the Night of the Sexiest Damn Kiss of My Life’, I wake up with a mission…
Survive the week ahead without thinking about Donovan Mitchell Titan.
Simple, right?
I have a plan. A good plan.
An Emma-gets-her-shit-together plan.
Step one: Sleep in until seven. (I deserve it afterthis week.)
Step two: Go for a run. (Clear my head, burn off the nervous energy from last night's kiss.)
Step three: Meal prep for the week. (Be a functional adult who doesn't survive on vending machine snacks.)
Step four: Absolutely, under no circumstances, replay the feeling of Donovan's mouth on mine.
It's a solid plan.
And it lasts approximately seven minutes.
Because at five AM—two hours before my intended wake-up time—I'm jolted awake by a wave of nausea so violent I barely make it to the bathroom before I'm hunched over the toilet, throwing up everything I've eaten in the past twelve hours.
Which, given that I skipped lunch yesterday, isn't much.
"Okay," I gasp, sitting back against the tub. "New plan. Survive the next five minutes without dying."
The nausea subsides slightly, and I try to stand.
Big mistake.
