Chapter 13

“He’s infuriating. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.” I’m out of breath, on my third trip from my old place to my new one, and I’m so exhausted that I could fall asleep in this lobby.

It wouldn’t be so bad; this bag of clothes would make a pretty good pillow.

“He’s a jerk,” Alice says. “You’re a thousand times better than Sterling Ross.”

The elevator opens, and I push my suitcase ahead of me with my foot, watching it roll in and promptly fall over. I manage to hit the button with my elbow and sag against the wall. I’m ready to lie down.

If only my mattress wasn’t still at my old apartment.

“I’d better go,” I tell her. “If I wake up early enough, I can finish this research and go back to never talking to him.”

“I’m telling you, I’m more than happy to fly out there and remove his balls for you. Some cultures consider them a delicacy—”

“Goodbye.” I hang up, still laughing.

A hand shoots through the elevator doors before they close, and a man I’ve never seen before steps on.

Soft brown hair, pink lips, and wired with enough muscle that I’m having trouble remembering my own name.

He’s wearing a guitar strapped to his back and a smile that could weaken the knees of the coldest fish.

Heck, he’d probably make Sterling swoon.

“Let me help,” he says, kneeling down to right my suitcase. The chain around his neck jangles as he stands back up. “I’m Lucky, by the way.”

You’re gorgeous, is what I want to say back.

“Birmingham?” I ask instead, curious about his accent.

“No, but that’s the best anyone’s guessed before. Manchester.”

Ah. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I’m Mia.”

The elevator opens on seven, and we both step out, but when Lucky stops beside me, I realize he’s waiting for me to take him to my door. “Oh, um, I should probably take that myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s only that—”

“I’m a strange old man?” He chuckles as he pushes his hair out of his face.

“You can’t be more than what, thirty-five?”

“You’re good at this.”

I shrug, but, yes, I am. It feels good to impress him. “I’m a reporter. It’s my job to notice things.”

Lucky passes me my suitcase, stealing a kiss on the cheek that lights up my nervous system. “Well, if you want to not be strangers, come by sometime. I’m in 704.”

“I’ll do that.”

I watch him leave, a little sway in his hips that I know he’s doing on purpose.

No, we definitely won’t be strangers.

* * *

I miss my assignment on Saturday. Monica is going to be livid, but I can string together something from the videos circulating on social media.

I’ll have to, if I want to keep my job.

It takes me all weekend, but I finish Sterling’s research. I could have done a better job if he’d worked with me, but I did the best I could on four shots of espresso and five hours of sleep.

I even wrote a note and left it all in a neat pile on his desk.

His old desk.

Job done. I’ll miss our titillating conversations. Mia

Sterling sees it as soon as he’s off the elevator. Of course he does; he doesn’t miss anything.

Without stopping, he crosses the bullpen, towering over me. It might as well be a week ago. If only I could go back and tell myself to say no when he asked.

“That’s it?”

I stare up at him. We’re both in the office early today. There’s no one else here. Nothing to distract me from those big blue eyes.

“That’s all you asked for. So, unless you want more from me, I have a job to do.”

The silence is so loud; it feels like a third person filling the space between us. Frustratingly, Sterling looks … impressed?

“If that’s how you feel, then I guess I have no choice.”

But he doesn’t move, and the longer we stare at each other, the warmer I feel. I wonder how many confessions he’s lured from people with only a look. How many desires.

He gives so little away; I’d love to meet the person who can affect him.

“I want to start by saying thank you.”

It should be too little, too late, but it’s nice to hear, and it’s him.

So, I pin back my shoulders and hold his gaze. “You’re welcome, Sterling.”

Using his first name feels powerful, like a promise.

I wait, expecting him to walk away. Aren’t we done? This is already more than he’s said before. Maybe I should have said something sooner.

Or maybe not …

“Would you like to get a drink?”

Oh, um …

“Sure,” I say, stepping away from my desk. “Is your cup in the break room already or …”

I jolt as his hand curls around my elbow, heat rushing through me. He’s never touched me before. I keep expecting Monica or Andy to burst out of the elevator and ruin this moment, but there’s no one.

Only me and Sterling.

“I didn’t mean …” He trails off.

Of course he’s changed his mind. What was I thinking? One assignment, and we’d be friends?

“That’s okay,” I say, shoving my disappointment into a box and throwing it into a mental trash compactor. It’s where the rest of my feelings for him go, crushed into tiny cubes to save space.

“Mia …”

And, oh, he’s still holding me, his palm warm on my skin. I’m so glad I chose this shirt; there’s nothing to get in the way of his thumb stroking the inside of my arm. It goes straight to my head, weightless and joyful, like the third mimosa before brunch.

“Mmhmm?”

He’s staring. He’s … smiling? Gosh, his eyes are the prettiest shade of blue I’ve ever seen.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and has any word ever sounded so good? “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

No, I don’t. My mind has gone soft and mellow, my whole body ready to melt into him. Is this going to happen every time he touches me?

“Have dinner with me.”

Wait, is he …

“Yes.” Date or not, there’s no other answer.

His lips curl deeper into a smile. Fuck, he has dimples. “Mia,” he repeats. I’m going to need him to keep saying it. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Oh good.

He leans closer, his lips brushing against mine. “Say yes, Mia.”

“Yes.”

THE END

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