21. （Un）deniable chemistry
CHAPTER 21
(UN)DENIABLE CHEMISTRY
EMMA
W hen I was a kid, the future glowed rosy with the fantasy of late lunches, shopping trips, and weekend vacations.
It glittered with spontaneity.
And sure, material things are nice, and first class is a superior way of traveling, but real wealth?
Real wealth is measured in time.
Time to think, breathe, relax—thousands of hours at my disposal to spend on anything and nothing.
I’d take limitless time over a hundred Cartier bracelets any day.
Now, as I wait outside the meeting room I’ve booked and watch the guys inside laugh and stretch and, more importantly, waste my time, it’s clear I’ll never get half the respect Charlie gets.
Speak of the devil. Without even pausing, Charlie walks past me, opens the door and pokes his head in. “Finish up, would you, fellas?”
No stress in his tone. Just a short, sharp command.
Immediately, they’re up and out with a smile. Jojo even claps him on the shoulder and suggests they meet for drinks soon.
I swallow my annoyance.
How nice it is to be heard and obeyed.
It’s what I envy about Charlie. His confidence walks into the room before he does. It’s all there, bright and sparkling and undeniable. He dazzles. Slips under people’s defenses with a grin, slips out with his prize and a thank-you. Even I can see he’s a shoo-in for this promotion.
The man is a leader, where I’ve only ever been told to follow.
“What did that keyboard ever do to you?” Charlie teases.
It’s been half an hour since I saw anyone but us in the office. It’s not so late that it’s dark outside, but I do feel bad for keeping Charlie here so long.
Luckily, I’m at the end of my notes, because I can feel my brain shutting down.
Ivy’s been on my case for years to stop working overtime, but there are too many people watching me. Too many people waiting for the second I stop working this hard so they can point out that I’m resting on my family’s money.
I won’t let them.
“I’m almost done. You don’t need to wait.”
Charlie groans as he stretches, the movement pulling his shirt taut over his chest, shoulders, biceps. It’s a visual feast of long, lean muscle, and my hungry eyes devour every inch.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” he asks. “You’re always working. Even when you’re not here, you’re thinking about it.”
I tear my eyes away from his chest, flushing. “Of course I do. Most nights, I’m lucky to eat a meal that isn’t ordered or microwaved.”
“You don’t cook?” he asks, frowning thoughtfully.
I shoot him a grin. “Who needs to cook when Romeo’s is three blocks away?”
“I’ll give you that one. They do good burgers.” He rocks back in his chair, throwing his hands behind his head. His arms are obscenely hot, but I’m too offended by his comment to linger on them.
“Excuse me, Romeo’s does the best burgers.”
“Hard disagree on that.” He smirks. “You haven’t had mine yet.”
It’s not the only thing I want from him that I shouldn’t.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do, and that is the laziest type of reverse psychology I’ve ever heard.”
“But is it working?”
Yes, dammit.
“All right, answer me this,” Charlie says, walking around to perch on my desk again. His pants (powder blue flannel, perfectly tailored, no belt required) tighten around his thighs, completely stealing my train of thought.
I’ve had to restart a paragraph from scratch three times today because the man leans so attractively.
I meet his gaze. Strong, unwavering eye contact that sizzles under my skin.
Charlie has a way of looking at me as though he can read my darkest secrets.
“You liked what we did last time, even though you got frustrated.”
My heart lodges itself in my throat. “Is that a question?”
He smiles, the plush curve of his wildly seductive mouth detonating a series of explosions somewhere south of my ribs. I must be spending too much time around him. His playfulness is catching.
“You enjoyed yourself, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Nothing you would have changed?”
I pretend to think about it, adding an exaggerated hum. “The ending, I think.”
He arches his brow. “Is that an attitude I’m hearing, Miss Conway?”
I flush so fast I twist my face away from him, but there’s nowhere to hide. It’s like being sixteen again.
When I do recover and turn back to him, he’s still smiling.
“So,” he says. “I’m curious. What’s the difference between getting yourself off while you’re alone and doing it while I watch?”
Is it possible to spontaneously combust? Because my body temperature has rocketed to such an extreme that I’m close to finding out.
“This isn’t exactly appropriate for the office,” I say, even though we’re the only ones here.
“Come on, we can argue about work anytime. I’m interested.”
“What a strange and unusual state for you to be in,” I tease.
“I know you’ve already thought about it.”
Dammit. He knows me too well. After I finished the job, so to speak, I lay awake and replayed it all, searching for a clue.
And if we’re going to try again, he should know.
“I couldn’t stop worrying about it. Everything felt good. The way you were touching me, and your mouth…” It was like being worshipped. “All I could think was, will it happen?” Ducking my head and focusing on the worn spots of the keyboard, I force myself to share what scared me most. “Is he going to get annoyed when it doesn’t? How long until he gets bored and leaves?”
“Emma, look at me.”
Without waiting for me to obey, he pulls my chair closer, between his knees, until my arm brushes his pantleg.
“If it never happens, that’s okay. And I’m definitely not going to get bored. This isn’t about you performing for me. I only want to make you feel good. Any man who wouldn’t, doesn’t deserve to be there in the first place.”
I lean in to pluck a long, white hair from his jacket. It’s strange to see him even a little disheveled. “Mohair?” I ask.
“Husky.” With a wry smile, he elaborates. “The shelter had an emergency visitor last night, so Reese asked me to take Dug for her. It could have gone better.” He brushes a few more hairs off his arm. “When he was first brought in, he wouldn’t let anyone near him, just cowered in the corner, nose down. The assholes who dropped him off hadn’t fed him in god knows how long. He’s healthy now, but we’re trying to help him acclimate to new places. Thought it would be easier at mine because he knows me, but he woke up every hour or so just to make sure I was still there.”
Oh god.
He is secretly a superhero who saves dogs in his spare time. The shiver that runs through me is impossible to stop.
Instantly, Charlie sheds his jacket and puts it around my shoulders. “Have you considered that you might be demisexual?”
“I have, and perhaps it’s a version of that, but I experience it differently. I can be extremely sexually attracted to someone I’ve just met, but being physically attracted isn’t enough to get me there. Even if they are doing everything right. I get all the way to the gates, but…”
“Entry denied.”
My heart sinks. “Exactly.”
“Interesting.” He hums, surveying me like he’s searching for something.
Thank god he finds this fascinating instead of the alternative. He’s like no one else I’ve ever met. “You’re one of a kind, Charlie.”
With a tip of his chin, he grins. “Right back at you, sweetheart.”
I’ve already thanked him, but I truly don’t think he realizes how much it means to me that he’s willing to help. I’ve been wrestling with this problem for so long, I didn’t know what a relief it would be to have someone stand beside me against it. A person I could confide in.
Suddenly, it’s not an immutable fact, but a puzzle. A riddle with an answer.
And Charlie is here, at the ready, to help me find it.
Pulling his jacket around my shoulders, I hold in a breath, hoping he’s okay with one more favor.
“Charlie?” Nerves skitter through me, all the way to the tips of my toes. “Do you own a tuxedo?”
His brows lift, and a wicked smile slowly spreads across his face. “Is this arrangement going to start dipping into role play?”
I’m no scientist, but I’m fairly sure the world just tilted sideways, sending all the blood rushing to my head. Forcing myself to breathe evenly, I quietly will my body to stop reacting to him.
If only it would listen.
I stand on shaky legs. “No, but my parents are throwing a fundraiser at their estate this weekend, and I need a date. Logan’s going to be there.”
The light in his eyes dims, and they grow a little harder, calculating. “You’re hoping when he sees us together, it’ll tip the scales.”
“You don’t have to say yes.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I’ll do it.”
Thank goodness, because I don’t have a backup plan, and I really wasn’t looking forward to disappointing my parents by showing up alone. It’ll mean introducing them to Charlie, but I’ll worry about that later.