Silence falls for a while. But it’s… good silence.
I hear the background music change track, a piano whispering. Outside, the afternoon settles into a warm orange glow.
I don't know what happens inside me, but it's like I enter a trance. I end up in that dimension where I was that night at The Aureum club. That dimension where I only ended up with Sloane.
I get up slowly, walking around the desk.
She follows me with her eyes, a little confused, a little on the verge of snapping.
“What are you doing?” Her voice trembles a little, but she's terribly good at staying composed.
I, on the other hand… could pass out.
“We’re simulating a date, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but—”
“Dates aren’t conducted ten feet apart.”
I stop next to her.
The air thickens.
She inhales softly, and for the first time since I've known her, she doesn't speak.
She seems to be assessing the situation. She lowers her gaze, then raises it.
“Alright,” she finally says, almost whispering. Now that I have permission, I sit closer to her. I watch her swallow, then she continues. “Let’s proceed. Do you have a pre-game ritual?”
I give a crooked half-smile. I’ve been asked this a hundred times, but… I’ve never actually answered. I’ve never answeredanything, if we’re being honest.
Wasn't it obvious that I hate interviews? Journalists? And everything that comes with it…
But Sloane isn't one. Strangely, I like talking to her. Yes, I love pissing her off even more… but that’s another story. “Left sock before the right. I know, ridiculous.”
She smiles, genuinely. “It’s not. I align the pens on my desk.”
I look at the pens, perfect.
Then our eyes meet, and we both smile.
Then… the magic shatters.
Her hands intertwine on the notepad, her fingers slender, her nails polished and shiny.
Professionalism has crept back on her like armor. But underneath… I feel her moving.
“Okay, Cohen. Now you ask a question.”
I lean forward a little. I almost brush against her. But that’s enough to send a shiver through my entire body.
I want more…
I inhale to pull myself together. Big mistake. Her scent invades my senses, and I can't think straight anymore.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from jumping her.
To keep from stripping that ridiculously sexy dress off her and making her mine, right here, on her office desk.
