Chapter 21
INA
I’d kissed my fair share of people in my life. A high school boyfriend in his pickup truck. A college theater boy who thought he was the next Ryan Gosling. A few awkward first dates in Wyoming that had ended with polite pecks.
None of them had prepared me for kissing Dane Kavanagh.
His mouth was hot against mine, demanding but not aggressive, and when his hands tightened on my waist and pulled me closer, I forgot how to think. Forgot where we were. Forgot every reason this was a terrible idea.
I was dimly aware that we were in his office. I didn’t care.
All I cared about was the way Dane kissed like he’d been starving for me. His lips were softer than any man should have and his kiss was all-consuming.
His hands moved from my waist to my face, cupping my cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of his mouth. I nearly came undone.
Was it possible to orgasm from nothing more than a kiss? We hadn’t even made it to second base and I was seriously ready to explode. The wanton groan that escaped me was completely involuntary.
He growled in response and deepened the kiss. His body pinned mine to the door. I could feel his heart racing as fast as mine.
But it wasn’t his rapidly beating heart that excited me. It was that hard length I felt pressed against my lower belly.
My hands found their way under the henley he wore. The second my palms connected with the skin stretched across his defined abs, his body jerked. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and unfocused.
“Ina,” he said, and his voice was wrecked.
“Don’t you dare say we need to stop.”
“I was going to say we need to slow down.” But even as he said it, his hands were sliding down to my hips and pulling our lower bodies together. He was making it very hard to think clearly. “Because if we don’t slow down, I’m going to do something that definitely crosses the line.”
That should have been a bucket of cold water. Instead, it was gasoline on a housefire. I pulled him back down for another kiss.
He made a sound that was half-laugh, half-groan, and kissed me back for a few more seconds before pulling away again with what looked like genuine effort.
“Ina, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.
” He stepped back, putting space between us.
His chest heaved up and down before he ran both hands through his hair.
It stuck up at odd angles, completely destroying his usual careful styling.
“You have to stop looking at me like that or I’m going to forget every good reason we have to stop. ”
“What if I don’t want to stop?”
“Then you’re going to have to be the responsible one, because I’m about two seconds away from throwing every principle I have out the window.”
I took a shaky breath and tried to pull myself together. He was right. We were in his office. At work. Anyone could see us. This was reckless and dangerous and I understood he had some strong objections to sleeping with his employees.
I didn’t want to make him break his own rule. But I was only human, and he was so damn sexy.
“You’re thinking too much,” I said. “I can see you building the walls back up.”
“One of us has to think.” But he was looking at me like he wanted to stop thinking entirely, like he wanted to cross the room and kiss me again, consequences be damned.
We stood there staring at each other with a million things that weren’t being said. We were both breathing hard.
Dane’s shirt was half-untucked. His hair was a disaster. There was lipstick smudged on his mouth. I wasn’t wearing much, but apparently enough to leave evidence. He looked completely undone. I had done that. I made Dane Kavanagh lose control.
The thought was intoxicating.
“I should drive you home,” he said finally. “You don’t need to be in here on a Saturday.”
“I can take the subway.”
“Ina, why do you insist on taking the subway when I offer you a ride in my very nice car?”
“I need some space to think, Dane. I need to figure out what the hell is happening. I don’t know what we’re doing.
I’ll be honest, it’s messing with my head.
” I smoothed down my shirt, tried to finger-comb my hair back into some semblance of order.
“And I don’t think I can do that if I’m sitting in your car trying not to jump you at every red light. ”
His eyes flashed with heat, want, and maybe a little amusement. “Is that what you’d be doing?”
“I’m trying very hard to be responsible right now. Don’t make it harder.”
“Don’t say harder,” he groaned and took another step back, like he didn’t trust himself not to close the distance again. “We need to talk about this. About what happens now.”
“I know. But it’s probably best to do it once we’ve cooled off a bit. Not here. Not now. Please.”
“I understand.”
I unlocked his office door and walked to my desk. I grabbed my coat and my bag, needing to leave before I changed my mind and went back to him. I had gotten almost nothing accomplished, but even if I stayed, we weren’t going to get any work done.
I took one last look at him.
He was the one that said no, but I was the one that had to make him stick to his guns. The man was looking at me like he wanted to devour me.
I wanted to let him.
I left before either of us could make things more complicated. By the time I climbed the five flights to my apartment, I had conjured up a million different scenarios about how things would have gone if I stayed in that office.
I fumbled with my keys, expecting to find the apartment empty since Abby usually worked Saturday nights.
Instead, I opened the door to find her coming out of her room, still in her chef’s whites.
“You’re home,” I said stupidly.
“Private party got canceled last minute. Food poisoning scare with one of the guests.” She took one look at my face and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay?”
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. “I might have ruined everything.”
“Define everything.”
“I kissed Dane. Again. At the office. In his office. We made out like teenagers. And then he stopped it—again. I don’t know what to do because this is supposed to be fake and it’s very much not fake and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him and this is a disaster.”
Abby was quiet for a moment, just looking at me. Then she went to the kitchen and came back with a to-go box.
“I brought home leftover brownies from last night’s service.” She opened the container to reveal the most decadent-looking brownies I’d ever seen. “Get a fork. We’re eating our feelings.”
“Do we have ice cream?” I asked.
“Slow down,” she said with a laugh. “You’ll end up in a sugar coma before you give me all the dirty details. And I really hope there are a lot of little details. I’m in a dry spell and need to live vicariously through you.”
I grabbed two forks from the kitchen and we collapsed onto the couch together, the brownie container between us.
“Okay,” Abby said, taking a bite and closing her eyes in appreciation. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”
I told her everything.
She fanned her face. “Damn.”
“Stop. You’re making it worse.”
Abby took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Sounds to me like you’re falling in love.”
“I already fell. I’m past the falling part. I’m in the ‘lying on the ground wondering how I got here’ part.”
She grimaced. “Are you sure he doesn’t like you, too?”
“Abby, we’re not twelve. Like and love are two different things. I can’t be in like with someone. I can’t have all these feelings for a man just to have him like me in return.”
“So, do you plan on shutting those feelings off?”
I took another bite of the most decadent brownie I ever had. “I’m just going to suffer in silence. I’m in love with a man who’s attracted to me but doesn’t want a relationship.”
“Stop that. Stop finding reasons to doubt this.” She pointed her fork at me.
“You moved to New York to find love, remember? Maybe you found it. Maybe it’s messy and complicated and completely inappropriate, but maybe that’s okay.
True love doesn’t fit in a neat little heart-shaped box like one of those gifts you’ve been giving. ”
I took another bite of brownie, letting the chocolate melt on my tongue. “What if it ends badly? What if blows up and I have to quit and find a new job?”
“What if it doesn’t end badly? What if you two figure it out and end up happy?”
“Bah. That seems statistically unlikely.”
“True love doesn’t care about statistics, either.” Abby grinned. “Although you did meet at a dating app company, so maybe statistics are involved. I don’t know. The point is, you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
We ate brownies in silence for a few minutes. I felt some of the tension in my shoulders start to ease. The power of good dessert couldn’t be overstated.
“When you guys get married and you’re rich, promise you won’t forget about me.”
I scoffed around my brownie. “I would never forget your name, Tabby.”
She gasped. “You bitch.”
We laughed.
“I’m just saying, when you’re Mrs. Billionaire CEO, buying Gucci bags and Hermès scarves, remember your girl who was there when you were desperate for a roomie. The girl who brought you day old brownies.”
“I’m still waiting on that bread,” I said, grinning. “Being my black market bread dealer would make you pretty unforgettable.”
“I can arrange something,” she said, rolling her eyes and chuckling. “But I’m serious. I want front row seats to your fancy charity galas. And maybe a Birkin bag for my birthday. Just one. I’m not greedy.”
“You want a Birkin bag?” I grinned and shook my head.
“Listen, if my best friend is going to marry a billionaire, I’m going to need some perks. It’s only fair.” She was grinning now. “Although honestly, I’d settle for not having to use your health insurance fraudulently anymore.”
“We’re not getting married.”
“Not yet. But give it time.” She nudged me with her shoulder.
“He’s completely gone for you, Ina. I saw it when he took you to dinner at the restaurant.
I saw it when he kissed you on our doorstep.
And I’m betting if I’d been there today, I would have seen it in the way he looked at you before you made out in his office. ”
I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t believe I made out with my boss in his office.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said.
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s hot and you’re down bad for him. It doesn’t take a psychic to predict that future.”
I shook my head. “I need to know this is real before I—you know.”
“Before you ride him like a bicycle down a bumpy road?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“That’s actually very mature of you.” Abby looked impressed. “I’m proud. I’ve never met a real country girl. Are you all that wholesome?”
I laughed. “Definitely not and I’m not claiming to be wholesome but I’m just not the type to bang my boss and then go back to work like nothing happened.”
We finished the brownies and Abby put on a movie, some action thing she’d been wanting to watch. I tried to focus on it, but my mind kept drifting back to Dane’s office.
I really wanted to text him.
I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t sorry about what happened and that I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Did that make me desperate? I was pretty sure he was used to women throwing themselves at him. I didn’t want to just be another woman. I wanted to believe I knew the man no one else got to know.
But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t going to change who he was at his core just because he wanted to get in my pants. And I was absolutely desperate to have him in my pants, but I wouldn’t be satisfied with just a one-time thing. Or even two times.
Something told me if I crossed that line, I was going to end up with a broken heart. The kind of broken that never truly healed.
If I was ever going to find my true love, I needed my heart intact.