I duck under his arm and walk around his office, not trusting myself around him.
The second I lock eyes with his, I’ll be done for.
“Harrison,” I warn, pausing behind his desk to take in the unobstructed view of Central Park. Seeing the park from the south entrance is not the view I’m used to, but it’s still remarkable, if not better. “Back to you stalking me.”
“I made Matteo do inconspicuous digging while hanging out with your friend.” His voice lowers from right behind me. “Then, I may have also googled you.”
“Why did you google me?” I can’t help asking. “You said one night. What would it matter?” I whisper.
His body presses up against mine. “Turn around,” he demands. His breath tickles the back of my neck, eliciting a sheet of goose bumps to pimple over my skin.
I close my eyes and melt into his chest as his lips brush against my ear. “Juliette.” My name rolls off his tongue, this time using a French accent, while he combs his fingers through my hair. Tugging at my roots in a punishing grip, he pulls my head back at an angle to look down on me from behind, causing a traitorous whimper to slip through my lips. “Kiss me,” he demands, and like always, I don’t think or hesitate.
I obey.
My body is in complete control and begs to feel his lips against mine once again. My chin tilts up in a welcoming motion, and without hesitation, his full lips are sealed against mine in an instant.
My arousal sweeps in as his hips surge forward, pressing his hard-on into my backside. Instinctively, I push back, rotating my hips against his groin, provoking a loud moan to escape him, echoing through his office.
Our mouths hang open, and our tongues collide just as his phone goes off. It’s like a bucket of cold water splashed in my face, bringing me back to reality.
What the hell is wrong with us?
I extract myself from his hold and high-tail to the exit.
“Jules, wait.” He spins me around, and I shake my head furiously.
“I can’t,” I murmur, then run out, not caring one bit how many eyes are on me this time.
I burst through the front door back onto 57thStreet and finally pull in a full breath, taking out my phone to see five missed calls from Becks and a new text.
Hey, I tried your cell first. But I got called into a meeting, and I won’t make lunch. Sorry, love you! We’ll talk later, I promise.
And don’t forget, if Italy wins tonight, we’re going out with Matteo for the semi-finals on Sunday… AND don’t worry, it’s with his home friends, not work friends.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
As much as I wanted to see her, there was no way I could keep it together after my little performance back there.
And after crying in her arms for the last month, I think she’s had enough of my drama.
Harrison
“Grammy!” Claud screams as she runs up the brownstone steps into Rosa’s waiting arms. “Happy, happy, birthday!” Claud squeals, hugging her tightly.
“Claudina, Grandma’s on the phone. Give her a second,” I call out.
“Oh, you shush up. She could interrupt the President of the United States if she wanted to.”
I follow them into the house and store Claud’s luggage in the front closet for Sebastian to take. They’re leaving straight from here for the Hamptons after brunch.
“Happy Birthday, Mom. Who’s on the phone?” I ask and kiss her hello.
“My other favorite son,” she mutters.
Nate and Leo screamJacksonsimultaneously from the other room.
“Tell that asshole to call me back,” I yell loud enough for Jackson, one of our other best friends growing up, to hear without even thinking.
