What even was that?
I don’t realize I’m gnawing on my bottom lip, thinking about the way she looked at me, the way her eyes darkened and her cheeks pinked up as we locked into each other’s eyes. The tension was palpable, which is insane, because she’s straight. I should not be able to have that much tension with a woman who doesn’t want me.
But there was this morning too, the way she couldn’t stop staring at me in my suit and the little dance we did when I was trying to get into the bathroom.
Nah, come on, Eloise, there’s no way.
If I think back to some of the memes and compilations that I’ve been sent over the years. This is just the same stuff that she does with her other teammates.
She was much more touchy feely with the ex-fiancé than she was with Rosie.
Although she was photographed with Rosie more than she was with the tool. Kenz nudges me as the car stops and Taylor leaves it quickly. “You’re thinking long and hard,” she says after we thank the driver and head in.
“There’s a lot on my mind.” Her warm brown eyes are inquisitive, asking a question that I don’t know if I can answer yet.
“Right.” She smiles, continuing and very obviously not waiting until I finish getting changed. She’s so impatient. “Does this have something to do with the way you looked like you were about to devour your teammate in the elevator?”
My cheeks warm at the thought, and I know that—thanks to how pale I am—I’m red like a cherry tomato. “Maybe.”
“I thought you said she was straight?”
“She is.”
Kenz lets out a harsh laugh. “Right, straight.” I don’t correct her because it’ll just fall on deaf ears at this point.
“Kenz, please I’m going to need at least five shots to talk about this.”
Her sigh is heavy when we walk through the lobby and elevator. Taylor’s already texted to let me know she’s on her way down. “Ohh, do I need to be careful about being in this elevator with you? Are they your kryptonite?” she asks, teasing. I poke her stomach in an attempt to tickle her to stop her from talking, but it doesn’t work. She’s not as ticklish as I remember her being.
“I’m not buying you a drink tonight if you’re going to keep this up,” I mutter.
She gasps. “No, please, ravish me in the elevator, it’s your—!” she’s shouting, laughing as the door opens.
Taylor’s standing there, eyes shuttered, looking absolutely delectable in her skinny jeans and top. Her chest is bulging out of the thinly knit sweater that’s tied in two places.
I have to stop my jaw from dropping, and the door nearly shuts in my face.
Kenz has somehow been quiet for a moment, a relative moment of peace as I lose my mind looking at Taylor. I think brain matter is slowly leaking out of my ear and onto the floor.
Fuck me.
Her hair is in a ponytail that curls and accentuates her features: her high cheekbones, the freckles and the green eyes. Her shirt, which I can’t stare at for long before I start to drool in more places than one, is a steel grey that makes her eyes brighter.
She looks superhuman; her stomach is toned, and her arms look like they’re about to bust out of the sleeves.
“I’ll meet you down in the lobby,” she says, her cheeks bright red as Kenz pushes me off the elevator, around her.
“Y-yeah, that sounds good,” I stammer. I don’t know how to string a sentence together.
She brushes past and her perfume engulfs me, a wave of floral notes settling around me. I wonder if I’ll smell like her if I don’t refresh my own perfume. Taylor tucks her chin, a small lift of her lips set on her face as the doors close.
“You little slut,” Kenz groans, pulling me in the direction of my room. I blink, trying to ignore the way my stomach flutters.
“Did you say something?” I ask, grabbing my room key once we reach the door. She groans as I let her in and then stops.
“Oh, you absolute slut. One bed?”
I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory. “Oh yeah, fuck.”
