Did she even save Alex's number? If she didn't, then she lost it when she smashed her phone. Presumably, so I couldn't see the racy photo she sent to Alex.
I start to laugh, leaning back in my chair and crossing my ankles.
What is she doing? Sitting anxiously with her new phone in her hands, trying to remember my—Alex's number?
Oh, fuck, do I hope so.
Lola can't text Alex. All she can do is wait and have her mind throw all kinds of scenarios at her.
Obviously, I don't want her eaten up by guilt or angst, but a touch of anxiousness is a turn-on. It means...well, I'm not sure what it means...maybe just that she will want Alex even more.
I put my phone down.
She has waited this long, she can suffer and wait a little longer.
Chapter Fifteen
LOLA
"What's that?"a deep voice says behind me. A fuse to hot dreams voice. One I don't want to react to.
And yet...
A shiver races through me, right down to my toes as Enzo leans over me, probably breaking all manner of HR work rules.
Mind you, I'm probably the only one in the entire building on his staff that thinks Enzo's close proximity is HR-worthy. It might be doctor-worthy, my heart is racing, my pussy aching, and my skin is both hot and cold. And God, how can he smell even better?
Today, I swear there is a twist to that hidden dark rose among the unsmoked tobacco, fruit, leather, and...rum? Heady. That is the word. Heady.
It makes something in me want to sigh and then to breathe in deep, savoring.
And he needs to back the fuck off and go away.
Of course, I picture the other staff lining the hall outside HR to complain he isn't invading their space, his breath isn't disturbing the hair at the back of their necks.
"What's what?"
He leans in and points a finger at my screen.
I somehow manage not to slap it away.
It is like he is sliding his hands over me, his skin brushing against mine, flesh to flesh with nothing separating us. Not clothes, not even air.
He is not touching me. He is not attempting to, and I have had others stand closer to see something on my screen when we have been discussing work.
It never bothered me before, so why does it bother me now?
I lick my suddenly dry lips and repeat my question. "What'swhat?"
"That number. It isn't right."
I take a risk and turn my head, flicking a glance at him.
Enzo is frowning, gaze locked on the screen. "I mean, look at it."
I am. And I get his point. It is just like the other one I found.
"That's what I thought," I mutter.
