Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOPHIE
ChaosQueen
What’s a Jeopardy category you could sweep?
Blowing out a breath, I toss everything I need for the night in my bag and stand from my chair. Glancing around my office, I wince at the disaster. No one would ever mistake me for an organized sort of person, but this is bad, even by my own, extremely low, standards.
It’s been a bit of a day.
After my MasterLab interview this morning, my brain would not stop spinning.
I couldn’t concentrate on one damn thing, which means I am now staring at no fewer than six different projects I’ve started today and utterly failed to complete.
The files for the spring STEM competition are spread all over the coffee table in the corner.
Six different drafts of our annual report are scattered all over the floor.
Eighty donor thank you letters that require my signature are stacked haphazardly on a chair, only eleven of them actually signed, plus one that only has my first name because I got distracted halfway through.
My desk holds four half-empty cans of Dr Pepper, two water bottles, six completely empty bags of jelly beans, and the remains of three different candy bars I tried eating when the jelly beans weren’t having their usual effect.
The chocolate was an abject failure too.
If the space you inhabit reflects your mental state, my office is giving, She’s a mess, and not the fun kind. Which is entirely accurate, and not just because of the interview, although woah boy was that ever a doozy.
No, I’ve been off my game since six fucking thirty this morning when Tyler barged into my room four seconds after I dropped my towel to the floor and then proceeded to look at me like he was committing every inch of my naked body to memory.
Like he wanted to devour me whole. My cheeks heat as my brain once again serves me up an image of the way his eyes flared, the way I could feel his gaze like a caress as he looked me up and down with a lazy perusal that made my legs quake and my stomach swoop.
Made me freeze and forget to do normal, rational things like pick my fucking towel up off the floor so my boobs weren’t on full display.
Even though he seemed to like the fact that my boobs were hanging out everywhere. Jesus Christ.
And the way he said Good luck today, Soph in that quiet, gravely murmur?
Holy fucking fuck, Tyler Hansley gave me sex murmur, and remembering it now has my entire body about to burst into flames.
Tearing off my sweater, I shove it into my bag and grab the nearest Dr Pepper, taking a big sip and immediately spluttering when I remember a second too late the soda is flat and warm. Gross.
So yeah, I’m a disaster because Tyler looked at me the way I’ve spent three years hoping he would and I have no idea what it means.
It’s possible it means nothing. Even likely.
I was accidentally naked, and Tyler is a man.
Men are not complicated beings. But the thing is, the focused way he studied me, the alluring mix of humor and heat that was so uniquely him, the way he leaned right against the dresser and made himself at home?
That didn’t feel like nothing, and it’s fucking with my head.
When my phone dings, I practically pounce on it, hoping it’s exactly the distraction I’ve been waiting for.
RenegadeRush
Well good afternoon, Chaos. How was the interview?
Shaking my head, I type furiously.
ChaosQueen
I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I need a distraction.
RenegadeRush
From the interview? Was it bad?
ChaosQueen
It wasn’t bad, just…unexpected. So yeah, I need a distraction from that. And also from…other things.
RenegadeRush
Then a distraction you shall have.
Football is my category. I absolutely kill at football stats.
Grabbing my bag, I leave my office and head for the elevator, so completely ready to put an end to this day.
ChaosQueen
That’s kind of a cop-out. I mean, RenegadeRush? Obviously you’re a football fan.
RenegadeRush
Yeah, but can a garden-variety football fan recite the stats of every offensive player on every team, in every game for the last five years?
ChaosQueen
No way can you do that. I only know one person who can recite stats like that and it’s freaky as fuck.
RenegadeRush
Hi, nice to meet you. I’m freaky as fuck.
In this way and so, so many others.
I cough out a laugh because football guy really does have hot guy energy, and now my brain is consumed with considering in what ways this man could be freaky as fuck. Distraction mission accomplished, I guess.
RenegadeRush
And you? What Jeopardy category would you kill at?
When the elevator doors open, I’m uncharacteristically relieved to find the car empty. There is something undeniably delightful about an elevator conversation, but I absolutely cannot people right now.
ChaosQueen
I want to say movie trivia, but my movie knowledge extends to rom-coms and rom-coms only. The truth is, I absolutely clean up at Gadgets & Gizmos.
RenegadeRush
That’s badass. So, what are you up to right now?
When the elevator doors open, I step off, my head still buried in my phone.
ChaosQueen
I’m leaving work now, and I was serious about the distraction. I’m considering sending out an SOS to my friends to go do something crazy with me. It’s that kind of night.
RenegadeRush
Crazy, huh? What constitutes crazy in the world of ChaosQueen?
The second I push through the door to my building, I’m hit with a blast of cold, early March air.
Goosebumps immediately ripple down my bare arms because of course I shoved my sweater in my bag instead of putting it back on after I stripped off earlier at the memory of Tyler’s sex voice and ocean-eyed perusal, and my jacket is draped across a chair in my office because my brain was too addled to remember to bring it with me.
“That sweater works better if you wear it, Sal.”
I suck in a breath, coming to a complete stop, my head jerking up at the sound of Tyler’s voice.
And I instantly melt into a lusty puddle because there he stands, leaning up against his black G-Wagon, denim-clad legs crossed at the ankles and a beaming smile aimed directly at me.
The last rays of the setting sun make his eyes glow as he studies me, the color made even bolder by the navy sweater stretched across his impressive chest, and his hair falls over his forehead in a perfect, sexy tousle.
He looks so cozy hot it takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to take a flying leap directly into his arms.
And when he rakes his gaze down my body, eyes lingering on my chest where I’m absolutely positive my nipples are poking through my tank top due to the cold and my proximity to this beautiful man, and then drags his tongue along his lower lip, a kind of knowing in his eyes like he’s remembering exactly what I look like without the clothes I’m currently wearing, heat sears through me like I’ve suddenly crash-landed directly on the surface of the sun.
“You’re parked in a fire lane,” I manage, crossing my arms over my chest. “You couldn’t find a regular parking spot like everyone else?”
Tyler chuckles, pushing off the car and striding towards me. He slides the bag from my shoulder and takes the sweater out, setting the bag on the ground at our feet. “But if I was parked somewhere else, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
Shaking out the sweater, he tugs it over my head, holding out the sleeves so I can stick my arms in, then gently lifting my hair out of the neck, his fingers gliding over my skin in a way that makes me shiver.
Slowly—so, so slowly and with his eyes glued to mine—he reaches up and tucks a wayward curl behind my ear, skating his thumb down over my jaw, and what are words again?
I have forgotten every single one of them.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, resting his hand lightly on the side of my neck. Barely even touching, really. Just…hovering there, the heat of his palm warming my skin as his eyes bore into mine, and my goosebumps have goosebumps only this time, they have nothing to do with the cold. “So, so perfect.”
What is happening right now?
“What are you doing here?” My voice is high and breathy, which seems to amuse Tyler. His lips quirk up on one side, and that breaks me out of my daze enough to take a step back and get some breathing room from whatever the hell this is.
Only when I breathe, I get a whiff of the spice of his cologne and the clean, soapy smell that is so completely him, and all of a sudden, I’m fighting for my life, every part of my body desperate for him.
Oblivious to my overwhelming need to plaster my body to his and never let go, Tyler grins, picking up my bag from the ground and slinging it over his own shoulder. “Came to pick you up.”
I roll my eyes to try and appear like this man doesn’t affect me. That’s me. Totally unaffected by this gorgeous specimen of football god. Nothing to see here at all. “I have a car. I don’t need a chauffeur.”
Tyler drops a hand down and flicks my bracelets, giving me a wink. “Obviously. But you told me you had a big interview today, so I thought we could go celebrate it.” He studies me. “Or commiserate? Whichever is more appropriate.”
The interview.
My stomach clenches as thoughts of the interview come crashing back. What it means. What I’m going to do about it.
Tyler links his finger with mine, pulling me out of my spiral. “What’s in your head, Sophie baby?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing exactly what he means.
Flicking my bracelets again, he gives me a soft sort of smile that has my heart knocking against my ribs. “You were a million miles away. Where did you go?”