I was surprised as fuck to see her in the stands at practice the other day, but from what little I’ve gathered, her friend’s dating my captain, Devereaux, or something.
The less I know, the better.
Not that being ignorant about her was going to stop her from occupying my head.
I know that much because as much as it aggravates the fuck out of me, I just can’t stop fucking thinking about her.
I clear my throat, and her head whips up at the sound, her endless blue eyes widening as she slams the book shut in her lap. My gaze drops to the front cover, noticing the couple tangled together on the front.
When I drag my eyes back to hers, her cheeks are bright red, her blush creeping down her neck as she scrambles to get up from the floor and put the book into her bag at the same time.
“Oh, hi. Uh, sorry, I didn’t hear you come up,” she stammers and tugs her pillowy pink-glossed lip between her teeth.
The gloss she’s painted on reminds me of the one she was wearing that night. Of how swollen her lips looked after I kissed her until she was sucking in air by the mouthful, panting into my neck.
I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my sweats before I do something fucking stupid like continue staring at her lips.
“What can I help you with, Miss Delacroix?” The words are flat and abrasive, and her expression flickers with something, like they stung, before she plasters on a strained smile and lifts her folder between us.
“I emailed you…” she says, narrowing her eyes. “A couple of times, about setting up a meeting, but I didn’t get a response, so I figured that this would be the best way to get you. “
Clearly, annoyed that I didn’t respond.
She’d be even more pissed if she knew I saw each of them come in and ignored them because I’m avoidingher.
Trying to purge her out of my damn head.
“Busy week.”
A tense, heavy silence stretches between us as she nods, because neither of us knows what to say.
I sure as fuck have no idea how to handle this, how to handle being around her, how exactly we’re supposed to move on like that night never happened.
“Well, now that I’m here, can we discuss plans?” Maisie says, her soft voice drifting through the thoughts running on overtime in my head.
“Sure.”
I pull my keys out of my pocket and unlock my office door, then hold it open for her to step through.
She quickly ducks under my arm, and my molars grind when I get a whiff of how goddamn sweet she smells.
Like the ultimate temptation.
It takes me back to that night, and I fucking hate myself for it. Everything reminds me of the way she felt in my hands, the way her skin tasted, and that is never happening again.
It’s done.
If only my dick would get the goddamn memo.
I round the desk and sink down into my office chair, my knee bouncing as she stands across from me, her throat bobbing as she swallows.
“Okay, I know you’re busy, so I won’t take up much of your time,” she murmurs as she places the open folder onto the top of my desk and pulls out a piece of paper. “I have a few ideas for the first event and how we can focus on building relationships with the guys, as well as highlighting the importance of literacy for the kids.” She turns the paper around, rising on her toes in order to push it across the length of the desk toward me.
In doing so, the folder slides, bumping against the still mostly full cup of coffee beside it and causing it to tip over,dousing me in still lukewarm liquid from this morning. “Fuck,” I hiss, shooting up from the chair as it soaks the front of my shirt, sticking to my stomach.
“Oh my God,” Maisie cries. “I’m so, so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to do that. I?—”
I blow out a breath and lift my eyes back to hers. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” The words are muttered through clenched teeth, even though it’s not fine because now I’m covered in goddamn coffee.
