24. Gilli
Gilli
I swallow again, the back of my throat knotted, and Tase hurries to speak like he has to cover the silence.
“It’s none of my business, I know, and it’s no excuse for being shitty to you this morning?—”
“You haven’t been shitty, exactly,” I interrupt. “But if I hear one more Wilson Phillips song, I’m gonna scream.”
He gives a reluctant chuckle, a nod, and walks around to the side of the desk to settle there. His frame folds down and those long legs take my attention out of my own head.
“You don’t have to coddle me, Gilli, although I appreciate your attempt. I’m a grown fucking man.”
At last I’m back to being called Gilli. It’s a small win. Air hisses out between my teeth but the chest constriction is real. What does someone even say in a situation like this?
Do I tell Tase that sleeping with Soren changes nothing of my desire for him, or for Aiden? Do I tell him there has to be something wrong with me to want the three of them equally, and sex last night only makes me hungrier for more?
He reads too much into my silence. “Sorry. I’m dumping this on you and assuming you understand my interest in you. Which is ludicrous, considering you’re only twenty and I’m much older. ”
“Not that much older,” I say. “And your assumption is correct.”
“Oh?” He arches a brow.
My mouth falls open. “Come on, Tase. We fooled around in the break room.”
“And you had your needs satisfied by someone else.”
I gasp and plant my hands on my hips. “Because he made a move. He came to me, in my room, and we…well, we both took advantage of each other.”
Why should I explain it to him? This is awkward enough as it is.
I twist around to open the door, to let him off the hook and escape the tension in the room, because shit, this is a lot, but Tase moves.
He reaches between us with one hand and stops me.
I look up at him and wonder if I’ve gotten things wrong. Except they don’t feel wrong. It feels like a chance to do something great with my life. A chance to figure out who I am, to see if, for the first time in my life, I can love someone.
It’s been hard work to love myself. I’m not quite there yet, and it’s stopped me from getting into any kind of relationship because I felt like I’m not ready.
This isn’t a relationship, I remind myself, staring at Tase’s hand on mine. I slowly turn my hand until our palms press flat together. None of them are true relationships. There is desire, and there is sex. That’s the connection.
Even if it doesn’t fulfill an emotional need.
“So what do we do?” Tase asks simply. “Maybe I’m cutting to the chase but I know myself. Playing games has never been my deal. I understand I’m not allowed to want you, and I deserve you even less, but I can’t stop myself.”
“No, you’re not a game player.” I take a deep breath and the shaking in my body slows and stops. A laugh escapes. “That’s what I like about you.”
“My wife called it brusque. She said I rub people the wrong way when I get matter of fact, and people need to be warmed up and played a little to fully accept what you say. It was her way, not mine.”
He’s still touching me. Which makes me more determined to offer him the same in return.
I lift my head to meet his gaze again. “I like your way, Tase. I like you. And I do want you. Nothing changed because of?—”
I swallow and heat pulses through his hand into mine.
“Yeah? You want me, too?” He flashes me a cocky smile.
“Yeah,” I repeat in his same tone. “I do.”
He jerks back in surprise and my stomach flutters. I like surprising him. And clearly I’ve managed to do so.
Tase tugs me toward him, but this time his smile grows in radiance. “I never expected you to say that. I guess I never expected to feel like I don’t deserve it, either.”
Why wouldn’t he deserve it?
He trails his fingers along my jaw and down to my shoulder, lingering there. His head cocks to the side as he studies me. “You intrigue me.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
My fingers itch to grab him and haul him close and taste him again. Is it wrong? Should I stop myself and nip this lust in the bud before it has a chance to fully bloom?
The doc intrigues me, and his vulnerability, his maturity, is a huge lure. The little girl in me cries out for something stable and the woman is ready to do anything to have it.
“I want another taste of you, Gilli.”
A frisson of anticipation races up my spine. I’m dying for another taste of him, too.
I hear voices sound from the hall as I step toward him, but with the door closed, we’re alone. I can’t stop thinking about those words. I wish it had been me in your bed and not him .
Both of them would be perfect.
Okay, maybe not perfect. The bed is too small to accommodate more than a couple of people, but if Tase had been the one to come to my room last night, I wouldn’t have stopped him.
It’s not about the video, either, because sure as shit if Soren saw it, then Tase did, too.
He wants me .
Tase draws his hands down to my waist and I lift my face to him, my breath suddenly gone. The place between my legs grows warm, just like that.
I guess he’s technically right about being older than me. About this being a strange situation where we work together, and I’ll be leaving town soon.
This might be about loneliness and a need for more than just sex. This might also complicate whatever progress I’ve made with each of the three men.
I should stop this all before it starts. The twisting in my stomach tells me otherwise. I just hope this won’t be another bad decision.
My skin tingles as his hands shift to find the bottom hem of my scrub shirt, and my nipples jump to attention in delicious anticipation.
Shit. My hands tingle and my eyelashes flutter at his touch, the slow circling of his hands over the fabric of my borrowed pants.
The door to the office bursts open and Tase and I instantly jump apart. My heart leapfrogs straight into my throat.
“Hey, Doc, I’ve got a couple of questions about the Turkish Angora coming in?—”
The moment is gone, busted apart into little pieces.
“Once again, Belle, you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he admonishes.
Not a snap, but his brows draw down and his lips are pinched. I hate seeing him button up again this way. The slow unveiling of him hooks me straight through the belly.
“Sorry, but there’s a note in the file that says she needs to be isolated when she comes in,” Belle continues obviously. “Do I need to set up an entirely different crate for the cat?”
“I’m going to go grab a snack.” I hoist my thumb behind me and take my leave while there’s a chance for a hasty exit.
I draw in a clear breath and head to the break room and the granola bars, now that I know where they are. My pulse is still racing.
And for the rest of the day I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened.
Between Soren and Tase, I’ve stepped into this strange carnival ride spinning me around and around in circles with no chance of stopping. Do I want to get off?
I’m not sure. It’s probably to my detriment to let myself get distracted by dick rather than solving my stalker problem.
But this is new. Unique.
Less than two weeks of extraordinary circumstances and I’m not the same person I was when I drove over the state line. I’ve changed since then.
The end of the day comes quicker than I thought. Between the back to back appointments, we kept busy until we locked the front door and flipped the sign over.
“Another great day, folks,” Tase calls out. “Thank you for your hard work.”
“Sooner or later you’re going to have to get us even more help, you know. Or hire Gilli full time,” Belle says. “Please, Doc? We need her!”
“He can’t afford me,” I joke, winking at Belle.
She snorts prettily. “I’m sure he can find the extra funds somewhere.” She links her arm through mine and parades us toward the break room. “I want to keep you, Gilli. I like you. You’re weird with those little ticks of yours but I like them.”
“Ticks?”
“Yeah, you know. How you start to pull little pieces of your hair out to braid when you’re thinking about something. Or you twitch your nose like a bunny when you’re reading through files.”
I laugh outright. “I didn’t know I did those things.”
“Like I said,” Belle repeats. “Weird. But I don’t get why you’re single.”
The reminder is a punch to the kidney. I guess I haven’t felt single for a while now.
“Oh, you know, people say it will happen when you least expect it. I figure some dude with love for Nancy Meyers movies and mint chocolate chip ice cream and vintage mirrors will find me, someday. We’ll be the perfect match.”
Belle’s head tips back on a laugh. “We’re definitely going to be friends. A perfect match for sure!”
The girls get their coats and head out, once again leaving me and Tase alone in the break room. His attention flickers toward the counter where he’d propped me up yesterday and my chest goes hot.
I’ve got half a mind to lock the door and have my way with him right here and now.
“Stop looking at me the way you are or we won’t get out of here,” he mutters. “And I promised my father-in-law I’d have dinner with him.”
Ah, an excuse. Good . I need one.
“You know, if I were a normal person and these were normal circumstances…” I pull up short when Tase drapes my coat over me, forcing me to hold my arms out to the side while he helps. “Well, I would fall head over heels for you.”
He stills. “I’m not the person you must think I am. I’m hard to love. Having dinner once a week with the old man doesn’t change things. It’s called an obligation.”
“You might think you’re hard to love, but you’re only looking for evidence of the story you tell yourself in your mind. Trust me. I do the same thing.” I draw in a deep breath filled with the scent of him.
“Stop,” Tase says with a groan.
“You’re not hard to love,” I insist, “if you let yourself be loved. It’s that simple.”
“You’re speaking from personal experience again?”
I want to see his face and when I turn, we’re both sharing the same small smile.
“Go home. Have dinner. Make Soren do something for you. I’ll be bringing paperwork home once this dinner is done, so don’t worry about me. I’ll have plenty of company.”
“I never worry about you,” I admit. “You have it covered.”
He offers to walk me to my car, because he’s nicer than he thinks he is. But I decline his offer. No need to make him late for his dinner just because I’m nervous about walking a few blocks to where I parked the car.
He doesn’t need to know that, and besides, there are still people in the streets milling around. I’m being foolish.
But after a few strides, the sensation of being watched is back. Every part of me prickles like I’m exposed.
This isn’t normal.
Once the creepy feelings have settled in, it’s impossible to get rid of them.
The sensation follows me down the block.
Instead of waiting to be grabbed, waiting for the boogeyman to show itself, I run the rest of the way and throw myself into the driver’s seat.
Locking the door, sealing myself inside.
But I can't stop shaking. I might not be able to locate the source of the feeling but I swear someone is out there. Ready to make a move when I least expect it and ground me into dust.
How can I fight someone I can’t see?