“Because I really have to pee, but I don’t want you to run away.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, suddenly mortified at this knowledge. “Have you had to pee this whole time?”
“That’s why I went in there. I usually don’t have company this late.”
“That’s a long time to wait. I’d be dancing like crazy by now.”
“I’m about five seconds away from crossing my legs—in a very manly way.” His eyes shone with laughter, a smirk on his face.
“Go. I’ll wait for you.”
He turned and strode into the clean men’s bathroom while I waited, surprising myself with the fact that I didn’t have the urge to run away, though I probably should have.
“Why were you here so late?” I asked a minute later, as we walked toward the cleaning closet.
He glanced at me. “Once a week, I have a meeting in the evening with a company from Japan. I have to stay late.”
“A meeting in Japan?” I asked incredulously.
“Yep.”
“Once a week, you say?”
He smiled. “Yep.”
I waited a beat. “Every Tuesday?” My mind needed to know specifics, and he seemed bent on giving me as little as possible. We arrived at the cleaning closet. He opened the door and ushered me and the squeaky cart inside.
“We’ll probably wrap things up in the next couple of weeks.”
I parked the cart in its spot by the corner and turned to face him. I must have visibly sighed because his mouth quirked upward the slightest fraction. He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, looking very much like he had all the time in the world to be here.
“But there are a lot of other reasons a guy could stay late. Right now, it’s Tuesdays. Tomorrow, I might need to take advantage of the quiet hours at night.”
“Your home is quiet!” I protested.
“Yeah, but there are so many distractions.”
I pointed at my chest. “I’m a distraction here!”
A full-blown grin appeared, but before he could say anything, I added, “Not that kind.” I pointed at the vacuum. “A plane taking off is less noisy than that thing.”
He laughed softly. “It’s great white noise.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, leaning back against the sterile white wall of the closet.
He looked mildly surprised. “What do you mean?”
I motioned in the direction of RDM’s office. “Why did you help me in there tonight? Why’d you get me this internship? Why are you here right now?”
“Can’t a guy just enjoy cleaning?”
“A public bathroom? No.”
He held my gaze for a long moment. “I helped you tonight because it’s late, and you needed to go home. I didn’tgetyou the internship. I told you about it. You applied and got accepted all on your own. And I’m here now because I’m planning to be a gentleman and see you to your car so you don’t walk alone in the dark. How’s that?”
“Solid reasonings,” I said, folding my arms and ignoring the wild amount of fluttering inside my stomach. “Except, I didn’t apply for the internship. I got an acceptance email.”
The tiniest dimple formed in the corner of his mouth. “Huh. That’s weird.”
