Page 90 of Saved By the CEO

He thinks I’m still dating Josh?

“It ended,” I say. “Or, well, it never really started. Either way, there’s nothing there.”

A beat of silence passes. Then Andrew exhales.

“Please turn around.”

I should not.

I definitely should not.

I turn around.

He’s closer than I expected, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look at him. His gaze drops to my mouth, quick but unmistakable.

“Andrew,” I whisper.

His hand lifts toward my face, then stops halfway there.

He’s giving me the chance to step back—waiting for me to do the smart thing for both of us.

Unfortunately, I am dumb.

So I lean into his hand.

His palm settles against my cheek, warm and steady, and his thumb brushes once over my skin. The touch is so gentle it almost hurts, and when my breath catches, his eyes darken.

“This is a bad idea,” he says.

“I know,” I say, and grip the front of his shirt.

His mouth hovers over mine, close enough that I can feel his breath.

Then he kisses me.

Andoh.

His mouth is warm and careful at first, almost too careful, like he is still trying to make sure I have room to change my mind. But then my fingers tighten in his shirt, and his restraint breaks. His breath catches against my mouth, his hand slides from my cheek to the side of my neck, and the kiss deepens.

I kiss him as if my life depends on it, because for one wild second, it almost feels that way. Like he’s oxygen, water, food, sleep. Like I’m dying and he’s the only thing that can pull me back from the edge.

One hand lands on my waist, pulling me closer, and for a few seconds, I forget the apartment. The dishes in the sink. The laundry on the chair. The stupid outfit I have on. I forget about work, friends, family, RHV, all of it. There is only his hand at my waist, his mouth on mine, and the terrifying thought that I might never recover from this kiss.

Then I feel my hood slipping.

I let go of Andrew and slap a hand on top of my head, stopping it from falling down and inadvertently stopping the kiss.

He blinks, and I see it happen. Reality comes crashing down on him. It’s as if he forgot too. About who we are, about what this is, and about all the reasons this cannot happen.

“Carly.” His voice is rough. “We can’t.”

He lets go of my waist and takes a step back. The space between us feels immediate and cold.

“I’m your boss,” he says.

He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Maybe because there’s nothing else to say. Maybe because anything elsewould be too honest, and we have already used up more honesty than either of us can survive today.

Andrew reaches for his coat. “I should go.”