He runs a palm over his beard and shakes his head. His mouth is a tense line as he thinks through something. Finally, he pushes his plate to the side and leans his elbows on the table.
“Go on a date with me instead.” His voice is so sure. So clear.
My eyes flare as my stomach flips. That statement is nowhere near the list of possible responses to what I said. “What?”
One side of his lips kicks up. “Go on a date with me. Please.”
Thatpleasealmost melts all my resistance, but I take a deep breath and strengthen my resolve. “I can’t.”
He stands, grabs the back of his chair, and slides it around the corner of the table to set it beside mine. He sits facing me and drops his elbows to his knees. “Why?”
The confusion in his eyes has my shoulders slumping. “I just can’t. We work together, and we’re friends. And I thought you said you didn’t want to date anyone.”
Grabbing the outsides of my knees, he turns me ninety degrees until I’m facing him, his thighs bracketing mine. It’s a little cocoon, like in the coffee shop. Protective and comforting, in our own little world.
“Millie, I want to go on a date withyou. Notanyone. Just you.”
The idea of going on a date with him fills my stomach with butterflies. It sounds way better than Chad from Tinder with histwo-foot catfish, and I’d momentarily considered wasting my time with that guy.
But Finn is different. The rules here are worlds apart.
If he was just a random person I bumped into, I could consider saying yes to him. I could enjoy the fact that he’s asking me out. He’d be the kind of person that—I’m scared to admit—might mean something to me. Going on a date with him might change the trajectory of my life.
But he’snota random person I met somewhere else. He’s a man who sits on the hiring committee for a promotion to my dream job. And while I’ve avoided thinking about that as we’ve become friends, we definitely can’t be more than that while he is in charge of my job prospects. It’s not right.
“I’ve been wanting you since I saw you in that elevator the very first time,” he whispers. “Then you came here and lit up our house and our life, and I think I’m addicted to it.” His grip on my knees tightens, like he can’t help it.
“Finn.” I sigh, clenching my hands into fists. “You can’t say things like that.”
He clasps my fists in his, and I glance down at them—his big, strong hands holding my smaller ones, and his thumbs rubbing little circles on the backs until they relax. The motion blazes a searing path straight to my core. “But I mean it.”
I shake my head. “It makes my brain fuzzy, and I can’t remember why I was trying to stay on this side of the friendship line I drew.”
He pulls a hand away from mine and cups my jaw in his palm. “Well, every word is true.” My eyes fall closed at the light graze of his thumb over my cheek. His fingers slide into the hair behind my ear, and I can’t stop my head from leaning into his touch. Tingles race up my neck and into my scalp. “And I want to make you feel the same way you make me feel.”
I already know I have to tell him no, but his touch feels so good. I want to hold on to this moment where I feel warm and safe and close to him. Hide it in my heart for days when I’m feeling like the world is dark and lonely.
When I open my eyes, I find him watching me with so much raw honesty that I almost throw away all my convictions. My chest aches to lean forward and press my lips to his.
But I regain control of myself.
“I can’t date you. As much as my brain and body are screaming at me to say yes, I can’t give in. You know how important this promotion is for me.”
“Yes, but—” he starts, but I silence him with my fingers over his lips.
“Nobuts.” Finn grins behind my fingers, but I ignore it to trudge on. “I’m also putting myself back together after my last relationship, and I don’t think I’m ready for something new. I’m scared I’ll get lost again.”
He nods, eyes searching mine, and I drop my fingers from his mouth.
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself before admitting the last bit. I look down at my lap because it’ll be easier if I can’t see his eyes. “I don’t have a date tomorrow. I made it up because I was so anxious about everyone seeing us together last night. I didn’t want them to know I can’t stop thinking about you.”
His warm, deep laugh encircles me, and I lift my gaze because I can’t resist seeing how it lights up his face. His eyes sparkle with mirth, smile lines accentuated around them.
“Do you know how jealous I was?”
I scoff. “You aren’t je—”
“Hell yes, I was. You feel like mine, and the thought of you with someone else was driving me out of my mind.”
