“Technically, he's my boss's boss's boss. Because Teresa is my boss, and Matt Blake, who is VP of creatives, is her boss. And when Reid took over as president, even though he's younger than Matt, he became Matt’s boss. So I think there's enough space in the chain of command that it's okay for me to have a crush on him.”
“You have a crush on this guy?”
His tone makes it clear he doesn't approve.
“When did you get to be such a stick in the mud?” I tease. “Is it smart to have a crush on my boss? Probably not. But it's not like anything is ever going to come of it. He probably doesn't even know I exist.”
He taps the top of my foot until I look at him, then he says in a serious voice, “Trust me, unless the guy's an idiot, he knows you exist. Just be careful, okay? I don't like the idea of you flirting with this guy. The power dynamic is unbalanced.”
I laugh again. “Um ... I don't think that's going to be a problem. You've clearly forgotten how much I suck at flirting.”
“You're better at it than you think,” he mutters.
Which is just adorable and proof of what a good friend Keegan is, always trying to bolster my self-confidence.
“Don't worry about it. It's a harmless crush. It's no different from the crush I had on you when we first met.”
Keegan goes completely still. My feet are still in his lap, wrapped in his hands, but I swear he's so still he's stopped breathing. I look up to see a shocked expression on his face.
“What?” he asks, his lips parted in obvious surprise, and the intensity of his focus on me is unsettling. Something in the incredulity in the syllable sounds like a crack, like some sort of shift in power. Like some scale of balance is upset by my admission.
I’m not entirely sure if my offhand remark about the very-dead, very-over crush was a good or bad idea, but it seems like Keegan knowsexactlyhow he feels about it.
chapterthree
I nearly laughout loud at his expression. “Oh, my gosh. Don't look so horrified. It's not like I still have a crush on you.”
“I just ... I didn't ...What?”
His confusion finally registers with me. I'veneverseen him at a loss for words. “Wait. You didn't know I had a crush on you?”
He slow blinks and then says, “You had a crush on me?”
“Yeah, I did. I mean, look at you.” I gesture at him. “You're stupidly hot. And, annoyingly, stupidly kind and smart, too. You’re like a crush equivalent of a triple threat. I thought my crush was pretty obvious.”
“It wasn't.”
He still looks so stunned it's all I can do not to laugh.
“Didn't you wonder why I was nervous around you all the time? Why I could barely talk to you?”
“You have a stutter. I just assumed that's what you were like. And you were shy.” Keegan's gaze is roaming my face, looking at me like he hasn't seen me in years.
Something about it makes me uncomfortable, so I stand and start gathering the remains of our takeout and bringing them into the kitchen.
“Yeah, sure, but I was also extra shy and stuttered even more than usual,becauseI had a crush on you.” I scrape the dregs of our food into the countertop composter before loading the dishes into the sink and rinsing off the takeout containers. All to avoid having to look at him. I give another laugh, trying to make light of how awkward this conversation is, but this laugh sounds forced. “I can't believe y-you didn't know that.”
“Why didn't you say anything?” His voice sounds suddenly serious.
I shake the water off the takeout containers and turn to drop them in the recycle bin, then rinse off my hands. Done with that task, I have no choice but to turn and look at him as I dry my hands off. “What should I have said? We were friends. And you're a good guy. Anything I would've said just would've made it weird. You obviously weren't into me and way out of my league anyway and—”
“I'm not out of your league.” His tone is unexpectedly harsh. “If anything, the opposite is true.”
“Pul-ease.” Again, I keep my tone light. Keegan lavishes praise on all of his friends, so of course he’s going to say that. “Keegan, be serious. You're gorgeous and rich. I was shy and dorky and nervous all the time. Obviously, you were out of my league.”
He rounds the kitchen island to stand in front of me, cupping my shoulders with his hands. “Meg, you are smart, beautiful, and ambitious.No oneis out of your league.”
I wave aside the compliment, taking it for what it is. “Of course you think that. You see me through best-friend-colored-glasses.”
