Oliver nods beside me. “Yes, Sir.”
His voice remains steady, untouched by that viciousness I’d heard earlier.
His gaze roves over me, dropping to my hands, and then he looks away. I swear as he turns, I see the faintest kiss of crimson in his cheeks.
“I want a full projection by next Monday," I say and my team nods in agreement, leaving Chickadee, Oliver, and I alone.
“You need to breathe, Sloane,” Chickadee says as she reaches for my arm.
“You aren’t going to get anywhere spewing vinegar at them.”
“She’s right, you know,” Oliver touts. “Honey is much more efficient.”
I glare at him.
“I do not think either of you are aware of the pressure I am under,” I bite.
Oliver twists his lips.
“Oh, but pressure makes diamonds, right, Mr. Pierce?” He smirks at me.
How dare he throw my words back at me like this. How dare he look so positivelyprettywhile doing so with his big green eyes and a perfect smile.
The fucking nerve of this man. How dare he make my heart race and my blood rush and my palm twitch.
How dare he make feel so fuckingpowerless.
“Oliver’s right. This is just a temporary setback.”
I nod. “If you are so confident, then perhapsyoushould tell Global Skies their money is going to waste.”
“It’s not waste if it produces a perfect Phantom. You know it’s always darkest before the dawn. And darkness is where Phantom thrives,” Chickadee says poignantly.
Oliver shifts his stance, clutching his Chromebook to his chest.
His shoulder brushes mine and I pretend not to notice, but… I do.
Just like I notice his thick vanilla musk scent, or the way his watch slinks down his wrist because it’s too big for him.
Just like I notice his nonchalant stares when he thinks I’mnotlooking.
“You’re right," I say with a nod as I slip my hands into my pockets. “Perhaps I am just… stressed," I say carefully.
Chickadee chuckles. “Yes, and water is wet, Sloane.”
Oliver laughs. I scowl.
“I’m serious!” I cross my arms.
Chickadee laughs again.
“Of course you are. That’s part of the damn problem," she says. “You need to give the team room tobreathe.”
I shake my head, and then I feel Oliver’s arm brush mine. I fight to look. To turn around and see his perfect skin against my natural golden-kissed tan.
“I—”
“Youneed to breathe," she says sternly. “Go out and touch some grass, Sloane. Have a drink. Go for a walk in the park. Pet some kittens. I don’t care. Just…” She approaches me with that warning look in her eye like she’s about to scold me or ground me even though I’m well over the age of needing to be grounded. “Dosomethingaway from your computer. Away from this office.”
