“Come on slowpoke, we’ve got shit to do,” she yelled before shutting her door.
* * *
It wassix in the morning when Flora ended her tossing and turning and finally made her way out of bed. A regular workday normally excited her but with meetings on top of meetings with some more meetings on top of those killed some of the joy of running her company. She wanted to be curled up on the couch watching TV.
Flora reached for her phone and instantly regretted the decision. A headache brought on from the brightness of her phone screen was already beginning to seep in. Flora found her way to the chillingly cold kitchen and pulled open the fridge door, looking for her usual breakfast foods. Setting fruit on a plate and a pastry in the toaster, she leaned against the counter.
Dylan knew her animal, he went as far as to come up close and not get his head bitten off. According to him, he didn’t get bitten, and she couldn't see any bite marks, so he must have been telling the truth. Her panther wasn’t normally an attacker, but Dylan was unknown to her. Her panther had never met him before. Flora guessed meeting him as a human first was enough for her animal.
Walking over to the couch to check on Dylan she leaned over it just like he did the other day when he called her out on her shit. Her hands pressed against the back of the couch as she hovered, trying not to wake him. Dylan was not a morning person whatsoever. He was grouchier than normal before nine a.m. Giggling softly, Flora slid his open sketchbook from his limp hands, examining the page he was working on the previous night.
Looking back at her were the eyes of her panther, her dark gaze shining bright even on a sheet of paper. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to get her lips to stop trembling. Flora didn’t know where to start digesting her emotions looking at that drawing. Tears welled behind her eyes and onto her eyelashes making it difficult to see the artwork. She wiped the tears away before they could fall, wanting to stare at the drawing for hours. No one had ever made her panther look so beautifully graceful. Her fur looked shiny and clean. There were no horrors to be found on the page.
“Sorry, it's not finished yet,” Dylan said gently, grabbing the sketchbook out of Flora’s hands. A blush covered his face; she was unsure if he woke up that way or if he was embarrassed that she saw his work. Smiling Flora leaned in closer to Dylan, invading his personal space.
“Why be sorry?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in question. Teasing Dylan had to be one of her new favorite pastimes. Something about getting under his skin enticed her.
“I — I don’t know, you just weren’t meant to see that,” he stammered, closing the sketchbook and making his way to the kitchen. Following closely behind, Flora reached her hands onto his broad shoulders, stopping him in place.
“Dylan.”
“Yes?” he asked, frozen in place by the feel of Flora’s hands on him. He could’ve kept walking, letting her hands fall from his shoulders, but he stayed.
“I love the sketch you made for my panther," Flora said. Heat was building up in her own cheeks. There was no stopping now that she had started. “No one looks at a panther that way, let alone draws one so beautifully. Thank you for drawing her.”
Letting her hands fall down his back, she felt each curve and mound of his wide back, not slapping his ass like she suddenly wanted to. Flora gathered herself, sliding past him back to her breakfast. These hot feelings coursing through her body landed in spots that they most definitely should not have. The man drew her animal, and she was ready to jump his bones. Was that all it really took for her?
Not saying anything, Dylan remained still for a moment before continuing to the kitchen. Flora was now super aware of where he was in her apartment, her body attuned to his every move.
“I have work today,” Flora stated trying to fill the silence of the now overheated room.
“I know, me too. All day, right?” Dylan asked, even though he knew her schedule like the back of his hand. He dragged his hand down the handle of the fridge, before pulling it open. Flora watched his eyes search the contents. Biting the inside of her lip, she needed to pull herself together.
“Yeah, I’m going to get dressed,” she informed him before rushing off to her room. What better way to pull herself together than to pull together an outfit? After her morning routine filled with 10 different skin products and a hair oil for her scalp, she pulled out one of her go-to outfits, an all-black number: wide legged dress pants and a tiny top. She paired the ensemble with her most comfortable black heels and silver jewelry.
“Is that even appropriate for the workplace?” Dylan asked, dressed in a similar hoodie and flannel combo as the first time she met him at the Enchanted Packhouse.
“Inmyworkplace, it is,” Flora said, giving him a twirl of her outfit, but really just wanting to see the movement of her pants flow as she spun.
“Okay, well, you got a jacket or something? It’s cold as shit,” Dylan asked, looking for a jacket for her. She had an oversized shawl at the office that would do just fine. Leaning on the back of her couch, she crossed her arms.
“Well, are you done questioning me or are you going to ask if I have a bra or underwear on too?”
Dylan played off the potentially inappropriate question with a cough before wordlessly walking out the door. Pushing herself off the couch, she followed behind him once again, getting a nice view of his ass in his jeans before she walked faster to be beside him.
* * *
After her morningmeeting of prepping her shoe designs for sampling finished, Dylan sat in a chair in front of her desk, sketching, while she worked on her computer, entering the last notes on the shoe sketches before sending them to her team.
After having many failed attempts to design these shoes, her special project, the stripper collection, would finally move to production.
“Okay, so the sketches are sent, and the sample should be ready for pick-up in a few weeks when I go on my trip out to the production factory,” Flora mumbled as she emailed the design team and Willow.
“I wanna see your panther use this,” Dylan said, pointing to Flora’s custom-made mini jungle tree on the left side of her office. The same one Willow pointed out, Flora knew it would stick out here but there was no room for it in her one-bedroom apartment.
“What if my panther isn’t so nice this time?” she questioned. She knew he saw her fight the other day but fighting and meeting were two different things, and she was surprised her panther didn’t try to attack Dylan in the heat of the moment.
“I’m sure she likes me.”
