“You’re thinking too much,” I said. “I can see you building the walls back up.”
“One of us has to think.” But he was looking at me like he wanted to stop thinking entirely, like he wanted to cross the room and kiss me again, consequences be damned.
We stood there staring at each other with a million things that weren’t being said. We were both breathing hard.
Dane’s shirt was half-untucked. His hair was a disaster. There was lipstick smudged on his mouth. I wasn’t wearing much, but apparently enough to leave evidence. He looked completely undone. I had done that. I made Dane Kavanagh lose control.
The thought was intoxicating.
“I should drive you home,” he said finally. “You don’t need to be in here on a Saturday.”
“I can take the subway.”
“Ina, why do you insist on taking the subway when I offer you a ride in my very nice car?”
“I need some space to think, Dane. I need to figure out what the hell is happening. I don’t know what we’re doing. I’ll be honest, it’s messing with my head.” I smoothed down my shirt, tried to finger-comb my hair back into some semblance of order. “And I don’t think I can do that if I’m sitting in your car trying not to jump you at every red light.”
His eyes flashed with heat, want, and maybe a little amusement. “Is that what you’d be doing?”
“I’m trying very hard to be responsible right now. Don’t make it harder.”
“Don’t sayharder,” he groaned and took another step back, like he didn’t trust himself not to close the distance again. “We need to talk about this. About what happens now.”
“I know. But it’s probably best to do it once we’ve cooled off a bit. Not here. Not now. Please.”
“I understand.”
I unlocked his office door and walked to my desk. I grabbed my coat and my bag, needing to leave before I changed my mind and went back to him. I had gotten almost nothing accomplished, but even if I stayed, we weren’t going to get any work done.
I took one last look at him.
He was the one that said no, but I was the one that had to make him stick to his guns. The man was looking at me like he wanted to devour me.
I wanted to let him.
I left before either of us could make things more complicated. By the time I climbed the five flights to my apartment, I had conjured up a million different scenarios about how things would have gone if I stayed in that office.
I fumbled with my keys, expecting to find the apartment empty since Abby usually worked Saturday nights.
Instead, I opened the door to find her coming out of her room, still in her chef’s whites.
“You’re home,” I said stupidly.
“Private party got canceled last minute. Food poisoning scare with one of the guests.” She took one look at my face and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay?”
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. “I might have ruined everything.”
“Define everything.”
“I kissed Dane. Again. At the office. In his office. We made out like teenagers. And then he stopped it—again. I don’t knowwhat to do because this is supposed to be fake and it’s very much not fake and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him and this is a disaster.”
Abby was quiet for a moment, just looking at me. Then she went to the kitchen and came back with a to-go box.
“I brought home leftover brownies from last night’s service.” She opened the container to reveal the most decadent-looking brownies I’d ever seen. “Get a fork. We’re eating our feelings.”
“Do we have ice cream?” I asked.
“Slow down,” she said with a laugh. “You’ll end up in a sugar coma before you give me all the dirty details. And I really hope there are a lot of little details. I’m in a dry spell and need to live vicariously through you.”
