“I used to call your grandpa Mr. Gray.” A teaspoon clinked against the inside of a cup. “Those rules didn’t exist in my day. If they had, you wouldn’t exist either.”
“Gran, I just…” I kept my eyes fixed on the road, but images of Mr. Carden and his rare full smile flashed in my memory. I wanted to picture Link, but there was no face to his username. Link was a feeling, and that feeling meant everything to me. “I’m trying to sort through the mess in my mind.”
I could hear her take a sip of her tea. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
For the next couple hours, I did.
By Monday morning, I wanted nothing more than to confirm whether Link and Lincoln were one and the same. I couldn’t livewith the uncertainty. My grandmother wanted me to confront him and get it over with, but I didn’t have the guts. Not yet. I needed more information. I couldn’t make this decision based on an unconfirmed sighting of@wheretheresawilliamat the conference. A lot of men are tall with dark hair and dark eyes. And maybe a lot of them would wear Pokémon shirts.
These were the thoughts that kept me up almost all weekend, and instead of getting proper rest, I rushed to work as early as the bus would take me.
The lights were already on at the office. No surprise. The early engineer catches the… I don’t know, what were engineers obsessed with? They were working all the time.
I zoomed through to my office, doing my best to keep my mind clear.
Think about intersection design. Do not think of Lincoln Carden. Do not think of Link.
Only intersection design. Every other thought was too dangerous.
But the second I opened the door, I was in peril.
Total body shutdown.
I forgot what an intersection looked like or the reason it existed. Right now, I couldn’t spell the wordroadif you asked me to.
Because my boss, Mr. Carden… Mr. Lincoln Carden, stood before me. Wet. Shirtless. With a fresh black shirt dangling in his hand.
A curse escaped his full lips as he spun around, eyes wide. I turned around too. But it was too late. I’d seen the way his pants hung low on his hips, the way the defined muscles on his chest were still shiny with water droplets. I’d seen his Adonis belt.
My entire body clenched with desire.
He stammered behind me. I could picture his panicked eyes andhow flustered this would make him. “I was, um, I went for a run and…” He swallowed, his voice shaking.
Before he could freak out, I put him out of his misery. “Mr. Carden,” I said, thinking of something that would make him laugh or smile like he did yesterday, “at least we don’t have a stopping sight distance problem because that sight stopped me immediately.”
The chuckle coming from behind me was foreign and wonderful, and it flowed right through my body and settled in my chest. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice low and still wobbly.
I giggled. My cheeks were hot. Even my fingertips were buzzing with a need to touch him. Right now, I would trade anything to trace my finger along the center of his chest, all the way down…
No, Lily.
“I didn’t think anyone would be here this early,” he eventually managed. “I dropped the shirt I had with me downstairs onto the floor, and it got wet and dirty and…” I heard him flop into his chair.
“Permission to turn around and look at you, sir?”
“Elizabeth,” he grumbled.
I spun around, pursing my lips to stop the smile from spreading.
He was buttoned up, and his face rested in his hands. “Unfortunately, I had to come up for the spare.”
Unfortunate? Maybe, I don’t know.
My only defense against this man was unfiltered humor, and before I could stop myself, my mouth spewed words I had no time to retract. “I mean, if I were you, I’d look for reasons to walk around shirtless, but sure, your dropped shirt story works too.”
“Get to work, menace.” His deep brown skin was tinged red.
“Yes, sir.” As soon as I said it, my cheeks filled with heat. I’d seen that phrase being used far too often in relation to a certain subgenre of romance.
