Fucking hell—I’m turned on. And I don’t know that I will ever be able to listen to him say those words again without thinking of last night.
I wonder how that Eternal-Sunshine-Spotless-Mind memory-wiping technology is coming along. I’ll have to Google that when I get to the office.
I clear my throat. “I ... I have to go.”
“What?”
I clear my throat again and realize I sound like I’ve come down with tuberculosis.
“I have work today.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Yes. But I have that big presentation tomorrow. I have so much to do to get ready for it.”
He’s frowning now, running his fingernails over his bare chest in a way that makes me want to climb back into bed with him. But isn’t that the kind of thing that got me into this trouble in the first place?
He glances around, looking confused. “Isn’t it early to go to work?”
“Yes. Totally. But I’m so behind.” I can’t stand to look at him, so I go to my closet and dig out a pair of shoes. I can feel Keegan watching me as I move about the room, but I don’t let it distract me from getting ready.
“Come back to bed,” he says.
“I can’t. I told you already. I have too much work to do.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him push himself up to lean against the headboard. It’s all I can do not to turn to just look at him. To get lost in the magnetic pull of him.
But it’s always been like this, hasn’t it?
This is what makes Keegan so dangerous to me.
Without ever meaning to, he can snag and hold all of my attention. He can distract me from my own goals. He has the power to knock me off track. If I was a different person, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I’d be able to pick myself up, get back on track, and chug ahead. But that’s not who I am. If I get off track, I’d be like one of those trains overloaded with toxic waste. I’d explode into a fiery blaze that destroys everything I’ve worked so hard for.
After watching me getting dressed for several moments in silence, he sighs. “Okay, I get it. You have work to do. But can you meet me for brunch?”
I still, trepidation tiptoeing up my spine. Keegan isn’t a brunch kind of guy. Unless it’s his family’s infamous Sunday brunch.
I force myself to ask the question I don’t know if I want the answer to. “Sunday brunch?”
“Yeah. My parents mentioned it last night. They invited us both. I think they want to talk about the development.”
Keegan’s parents invited us to brunch? Like we’re ... what? A proper couple? And they want to talk business?
As if I didn’t have enough to panic about this morning!
“I don’t have time for brunch.” I have to force myself to take a deep breath, because the sentence comes out high pitched and frantic.
He holds up his hands, palms out. “Okay. No brunch. What about breakfast? Just the two of us.”
He climbs out of bed and ambles over to me. I purposefully turn my back to him to dig through the drawer, like the no show socks I’m looking for are the difference between life and death. He steps up behind me, brushing a strand of hair off my neck and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. He’s naked except for boxer briefs and that’s entirely too much yummy naked skin and not enough layers of fabric. It takes all of my restraint not to melt back into his arms.
“I know the manager of Snooze,” he murmurs. “It’s ten blocks from your office. If I call now, she can have a table waiting for us. We’ll be in and out in less than an hour.” He chuckles, and I feel the heat of his breath on the back of my neck. “Not that there’ll be anyone else there this early on a Sunday.”
I grab a pair of socks and dodge out of his embrace to go sit on the bed and put them on. “That’s an hour I don’t have. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”
He leans back against my dresser. “I’m not. You are.”
“Because you’re not listening to me.” I let myself look at him, really look at him for the first time this morning. He is, as always, so fucking beautiful it hurts in my chest just to look at him. “This presentation is something I’ve been working towards my entire career. I—” I cut myself off and correct myself. “It has to be perfect.”
