I grip the steering wheel, daring myself to keep my gaze forward. Every time I glance over, I’m worried I’m going to wreck for how distracting Will’s focus on me feels.
I change the subject back to him. “What kind of companies do you work with?”
“Lots,” he admits after a second. “But usually start-ups.” Will shifts next to me, adjusting in his seat, and changes the subject right back. “The CEO isn’t worried about being late?”
“Cut me some slack. I was at the office until two in the morning yesterday.”
Will whistles. “More trade secrets, or can I ask?”
“Just finalizing a presentation.”
“On what?”
“Is this an interrogation?” I parrot.
“Cute.”
I throw him a good-natured eye roll. “Actually, I’m pitching a strategy to a consulting firm today. We’re probably going to hire them.”
There’s a pause. “Not Ellis, though.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question, as if Will already knows I’m not working with his employer.
“No. I can’t afford Ellis.”
The tall buildings of the city loom before us as we cross the bridge over the Colorado River. I turn, heading toward North Congress Avenue and the building where my company rents a floor. Downtown is alive right now, people crossing the street with lattes in hand, wearing everything from streetwear to last night’s college date-party costume. I spot a thirty-something woman in a Revenant blazer. It sends a zip of happiness from my head to my toes.
“Where should I drop you off?”
“I usually lock up at the bike rack in the garage.”
We head in that direction. Will’s presence in my car seems to grow, like he’s filling up the space just before he leaves it. He shifts again, one elbow leaning on my console. I finally catch his scent—which hits my memory in the same instant. He smells like warm cedar logs baked in sunlight. There’s something sweet but almost earthy about it, too.
He also smells a bit like pavement. That’s probably circumstantial.
I pull over by the bike rack and pop the trunk. We climb out and meet around back.
“Do you need help getting back to your hotel later?” I ask. “Or the bike shop?”
Belatedly, I realize that if Will says yes, I’ll have to see himagain.Stupid, stupid. But I can’t seem to help myself.
Will picks up his bike. There’s not a hint of strain in his voice when he speaks, which I find biologically fascinating. “You know, for a corporate exec, you’re not making me feel like I’m wasting your time just by breathing near you.”
“Is that your general experience with my kind?”
“Mostly.”
“Guess I can be different after all,” I snark.
His face takes on an expression I can’t interpret. “Thanks for the help, Josie. Really. But I’ll take care of myself from here.”
“Okay.” Relief and regret flood me in equal doses. I rub the heel of my palm against my hip bone. “It was… good… to see you.”
Will snorts. “Sounds like you really meant that.”
I throw him a look. Will smirks—which I take as his parting sentiment—before he bends over, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a bike lock.
Only once I start my car and strap in is there a knock on the window that makes me jump.
Will stares at me through the glass, gesturing for me to roll the window down. I do.
