“It’s shut down this weekend,” he said, letting go of my hand. “Just for you.”
The air shifted, tightening like someone had pulled invisible string between us, and I glanced behind him as another barista set a “For Andrea” sign near my usual spot.
“You didn’t need to do this…” My pulse tripped. “The off days were enough.”
“I really want you to pass that test,” he said. “Amongst other reasons.”
“Want to tell me what those reasons are?”
“No.” His gaze lingered on mine. “You’ll see them eventually, but…I do think this is the part where you get to tell me your favorite phrase.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Please don’t do anything else nice for me,” I said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t need to think you actually like me.” I looked at him. “Just be my boss who keeps me at a distance.”
“The distance ended the moment I devoured your pussy, Miss Stone.”
Heat flooded my face and I stepped back.
He closed the space anyway.
“Just so you know—” I said, “I went ahead and temporarily blocked your number this weekend…”
“That’s fine.” He tilted my chin up with his fingertips, trailing his thumb along my bottom lip. “You know I don’t need your number to find you.”
My stomach betrayed me with even more fluttering as he ran his other hand through my hair, but his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He tensed and pulled it from his pocket. Then he glanced at the screen.
“I’ll see you Monday, Andrea.”
“Mr. Cross.”
He looked as if he was going to correct me, but he didn’t. Keeping his eyes on mine, he took his time leaving and I stared at his car driving away for a lot longer than I wanted to admit.
TWENTY-FIVE (B)
ANDREA
Monday
Imade it through a booklet of practice tests, twenty coffee carafes, and a reread of my thesis before headquarters decided to intrude on my final off day via phone call.
From the intern department.
I let it ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
