Page 22 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

“May I just mention one more thing about improving the road systems, and then I promise to forever hold my peace?”

I’m not sure what’s more annoying—the fact that he’s bringing this up again, or that he sees me searching my purse for the room key but makes no attempt to retrieve his from the wallet he has stowed in his back pocket.

“I would have let you win if I knew I’d have to endure this.” I finally relent and drop the purse to the ground, crouching beside it to deepen my search.

Adam looms over me, his presence like an unwanted umbrella. “It’s more of a question than a lecture, I promise.”

“Oh, goody.” There! The damn thing had slipped to the very bottom of my bag. I dust off a few crumbs and hold it up to the keypad, which buzzes its approval. With a heavy sigh, I gather my bag and rise to my feet. “Go ahead, if you must.”

He holds the door open for me to enter first, and I politely accept. And by politely, I mean I cock an eyebrow in his direction, then lob my heels one after the other across the room.

Adam clicks his tongue. “So she’s beauty and she’s grace.”

I pause at the edge of the bed, still as a statue. A creeping heat that I blame entirely on my best friend for planting ideas in my head stings my cheeks. He didn’t mean to call me beautiful, surely.

“What was your question?” I croak, keeping my back to him while I wait for my skin to regain its composure.

His footsteps thud against the low-pile carpet, each one carrying him closer. The door snicks closed behind him, sealing all the air out of the room. When he finally stops, he’s so close that it leaves me sweating in my winter coat.

“May I?”

I glance over my shoulder to see that he’s holding out his hands to help me shuck my coat. I let him, though I’m no cooler for it.

He skirts past me, laying first my coat and then his on the chair in the corner of the room. When he turns, the light from the lamp on my side of the bed coats his skin in a yellow glow. I swallow hard, willing myself not to pay the carved hollows of his cheekbones any notice. And failing. Miserably.

“Why does it bother you for me to bring it up? You won the grant, and I fully support that. But of course, it’s something I feel passionately about, just as you feel so strongly that beautification is the way forward. If I’d won, do you think that’s the last you’d have ever mentioned it?”

My lips cinch tightly, forming a flat line of displeasure. He’s got a point. As much as I hate to admit it.

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I grumble.

The corners of his mouth twitch. His hands move to the buttons at the top of his shirt, which he begins slowly unbuttoning, one by one. “The feeling’s mutual, Cora.”

He’s said my name plenty of times before. Usually disdainfully, or with sarcasm dripping from the vowels like soured honey. I’m not sure if it’s Lauren’s fault for putting the thought in my head, or that heady red wine at dinner, or mine alone—but this time, when he says it, a shiver rips through me. Where did all this painful awareness come from? And how do I make it stop?

“I’m going to shower.” I force the words out, praying they sound steadier than I feel.

He finishes with the shirt and strips it from his shoulders. His white undershirt leaves very little to the imagination. It’s come untucked from his pants, riding up just enough to show a flash of that dark trail of hair. I drag my gaze upward, finding his trained on me with the kind of intensity I’ve always attributed to him. Only this time, it’s turned up to eleven.

“I appreciate that. If you’re going to end up on top of me again, at least you’ll smell good.”

“I was not on top of you!” My jaw slackens. I have to resist the urge to let it hit the floor. There’s an indignant flare of heat burning in my chest, and I let it fuel me. At least I’ll have it to blame for the flush on my cheeks. “And I told you not to bring that up again.”

“Just out of curiosity, how’d they feel?” He quirks a brow and gestures to the washboard of his abs showing through his shirt. “I’ve been working hard in the gym. Would love some feedback.”

I yank my pajamas off the bed and take one step toward the bathroom. “I’m sure you have plenty of women offering you feedback.”

“Even if that were true,” he says, voice dropping an octave. He takes a step, closing what little distance I’d managed to create. “I don’t want theirs. I want yours.”

He’s teasing me. That’s the only explanation. He lied about not hearing my phone conversation today, and now he’s taunting me because of it. I let out a half-growl, half-whimper kind of thing and march the rest of the way into the bathroom. “You’re insufferable, Adam. You should’ve just admitted you heard me today instead of taunting me like a man-child who gets his rocks off at knowing the coworker who despises him found him attractive for a split second. Don’t worry, you’ve cured me.”

I go to slam the door behind me, but it slaps into something solid. Adam’s hand, I realize. He crossed the room in a flash and caught the door, and now he’s staring at me with a wild yet cautious look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, did you just say you found me attractive?”

“Just stop, all right. I know you were listening to my conversation. The jig is up. Now get out so I can shower and forget this day ever happened.” I have nothing else at my disposal, so I throw my pajamas at him. The cotton slaps him pathetically in the chest then lands on the floor in an unceremonious heap.

He stands so still that for a moment he looks more like a stone carving than a man. Hands braced on the doorframe, jaw taut, gaze boring through me. I wring my hands at my waist, because I’ve thrown the only thing I had to hold onto.

“Cora, can you please explain to me in great detail what exactly you said on the phone today? Because, despite what you think, I didn’t eavesdrop. But now I’m desperately wishing I had.”