“In the back room, right?”
“Yes.”
“I can walk there myself, thanks.” Hiking my purse higher up my shoulder, I briskly walk to the hallway that leads to the private area. The memory of the day Nathan saved me from my ex rushes to the forefront vividly, like it was only yesterday.
When I received Nathan’s text to meet here, I was pleasantly shocked.
Is he being considerate or does he have an ulterior motive?
While my body lights up like the Fourth of July around him, my mind is wary of his intentions. There’s no predicting what he’ll do next.
The same guard as last time opens the double doors, letting me in with a quiet welcome.
A tingle starts from the tips of my fingers, shooting up my arms, and when my eyes find him sitting tall and regal at his table, it spreads into a full-body shiver.
Especially when I realize we’re accidentally twinning.
Like a couple.
The chocolate brown tailored suit molds to his hunched shoulders as he scrolls on his phone with his head bent. A sexy lone strand falls on his forehead, rebelling against his suave aura. A concentrated scowl on his full lips, he’s the epitome of an assiduous and unapproachable businessman.
Just the sight of him makes me weak in the knees. It’s embarrassing the reaction he evokes in my body just by being in the same room. I didn’t know a gravitational pull like this existed outside of romantic books and movies.
It’s criminal.
Before he catches me drooling over him yet again, I approach him. He lifts his head when my shadow falls on the table.
My breath stutters at the lack of cockiness and flirtiness.
His expression is calm yet cold.
Toocalm.
Dangerous like still water running deep. Hiding what lies in their depth.
Putting the phone face down, he says smoothly, “Hey, Arya.”
“Hii,” I murmur robotically.
“Sit.” He gestures across from him. Once I do, he asks, “Do you want to order anything before we get to the important stuff?”
Unease courses through my veins.
I’m lost.
Am I hallucinating this interaction? I pinch my thigh discreetly under the table. The pinprick of pain provides evidence it’s real.
“I’m good,” I reply. “Thanks for asking. Have you been waiting long?”
“I came early to have lunch.” Flicking his wrist, he prompts, “Shall we start? I have a meeting in two hours.”
His polite behavior is weirdly throwing me for a loop. Didn’t I ask-no, beg-for this? I wanted us to stick to business. So, why the hell do I want him to flash me his signature flirty smirk?
“Arya?”
“Sorry,” I clear my throat.Get it together, Ari.
No. Not Ari.
