For a second, we just sit there, smiling at each other, but hers has an anxious edge to it. Like she’s assessing my mood. I know things have been tense since I found out about Sera, but I can’t help feeling the same pull I felt when I met her two years ago.
Then the air shifts.
She licks her bottom lip and tilts her head slightly as she looks at me. “Meeting starts in fifteen.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.” My eyes are completely on her mouth.
“You should probably … go now.” She gestures to the hall, smiling.
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Nope. Not a good idea.” She leans back in her chair.
“Why not?”
She glares at me, and it’s so fucking cute that I can’t help but smile.
“This isn’t funny, Liam. We’re at work. We have to keep work life separate from …” She gestures between us.
“I’m not laughing, Alie. And I’m aware that we’re at work, but I don’t really care.”
She laughs lightly, and it’s the sweetest sound.
“Go. Conference room down the hall. And try to behave.”
“No promises.”
“I’m deadly serious, Pitz.” She stands.
“See you in”—I look at my watch—“thirteen minutes.”
I back out slowly, but I don’t miss the pink in her cheeks and the small smile on her face before I turn to walk down the hall.
Slowest. Meeting. Of. My. Life.
It’s packed with coaching staff, marketing, event coordinators, brand reps, and donors dialing in remotely.
Alie sits next to Presley, who’s been looking back and forth between us, like she’s in on a secret.
I ended up directly across from Alie. It’s great, but also like torture.
Someone is droning on about sponsorship tiers and pointing to slides that are on a massive screen, and I’m not sure how this part applies to me, but I’m required to be here nonetheless.
I don’t hear a word of what he’s saying, and Alie keeps glancing at me, which is also distracting as fuck.
Every time I catch her, our eyes lock, and I can see the smile she’s trying to hide.
Presley sees it though, and nudges Alie’s arm.
Alie shoots her a warning look, and I have to bite back my grin.
Her gaze drops back to her notes in front of her, pretending to be invested in the presentation. She taps her pen, then stops. Looks up at me again. It’s electric. This thing between us.
She knows it.
I know it.
And it’s amplified even more for me, knowing that she’s the mother of my child.
