Chapter 30
Waking up without an alarm wasn’t any cause for concern; I usually managed to get out of bed before it even rang. I usually didn’t fall asleep past midnight and post–oral sex, though. My body may have needed a little more rest.
So what? It was a Saturday, and after the week I’d had, I deserved a lazy morning.
I peacefully drifted out of sleep, stretching and turning before I could identify the nagging feeling somewhere in the back of my mind telling me the amount of rest I’d gotten was . . . suspicious.
Oh my God.
I sat up, scrambled off the covers halfheartedly thrown across my body, and reached for my phone. The text messages from an unknown number managed to catch my attention before the time could.
UNKNOWN, three hours ago
> Thought you needed the extra hours, told them you won’t make it for the Ashwood Annual brainstorm.
Before I had the chance to even ask myself:
UNKNOWN, three hours ago
> And yes, I got your number out of the employee register. Is that illegal? I don’t know.
Finally, my eyes focused on the clock on my lock screen. If Elliot’s text hadn’t made those alarm bells in my head go off, that sure as hell did it.
I don’t remember the last time I’d slept past nine, never mind eleven, so my gasp was justified. The way I fell out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and had my toothbrush between my teeth before I even took my next breath was too.
It didn’t matter whether I forgot to set my alarm or Elliot somehow managed to turn it off.
Suddenly, it didn’t just seem like a kind gesture to let me catch up on sleep, but a deliberate attempt to keep me away.
Who knows if he’d actually told anyone I wasn’t feeling well or if he was bragging around the office about a wild night out I didn’t have and the hangover I wasn’t curing.
Or maybe he was just telling everyone I couldn’t be bothered to work on a Saturday.
No matter what he’d done, one fact remained: I was late. Three hours late. I’d never been late to anything in my life before.
The day’s schedule fired through my mind as I spat foamy toothpaste into the sink.
The morning started with the first brainstorming session for archived looks, decorations, and a general vibe of the evening. Which I’d missed entirely. Camila was already pissed, so I couldn’t imagine how much worse my absence would make it.
Ten minutes later (and I wasn’t quite sure how I’d managed that), the door to our apartment fell shut behind me, and I flew down the stairs of our building so fast, I missed several steps, stumbled multiple times, and almost fell to my death.
Speed walking through the streets, I dialed his number. Elliot picked up on the second ring. “Did you tell Project Management Ronnie as well?” That was definitely panic in my voice.
On the other end, the line rattled, and his muffled laugh made it through the speaker. “Hello to you, too.” Somehow, he knew exactly what I was talking about. “Of course I did. We have the same schedule, remember?”
With the pace I was holding, I wasn’t able to let out a relieved breath, but I would’ve. “It sounds like you’re not at home anymore, though,” he added. “Don’t tell me you’re on your way here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I gave you the perfect out to enjoy a day off!” He sounded incredulous. “And here you are. Sprinting to work the second you wake up.”
“I’m walking.”
“Very fast,” he challenged. Which I couldn’t deny. The traffic light turned red, and I picked up my pace to avoid getting run over.
“Are you trying to keep me away from the office?” The suspicion escaped my lips with less humor than intended. I tried not to read too much into the queasy feeling it left in my stomach, hoping, praying that’s all it was: a feeling.
“I’m trying,” he stressed, “to get you a day off. You’ve worked a lot recently.”
“Thank you.”
He laughed like he didn’t mean to. “That’s not a compliment, Lucky.”
It was, though. All my life, all I’d ever wanted was to work hard.
Or, I guess, for my hard work to be appreciated.
To earn scholarships and competitions, get into my dream school and accepted at my favorite internship.
Working hard meant I was doing something right. That I was making Mom proud up there.
Even if I’d been letting Elliot dangerously close to parts of me I’d been hiding for the past two decades. Not just physically, but emotionally. And I wasn’t entirely sure how she would feel about my proximity to him.
“If it’s not a compliment, why am I blushing?” Pushing the office door open, phone between shoulder and ear, Amir glanced at the watch on his wrist, then raised an eyebrow at me. Another reminder of how unfashionably late I was. He didn’t need to ask the question swimming in his brown eyes.
I didn’t need to answer it, either.
I scanned my badge and hurried past the elevators. No need to take more chances, so I headed for the staircase.
I got to the second floor sweaty and out of breath. And I really tried to act surprised when Elliot leaned against the wall by Camila’s office, just out of sight through her glass panel.
“No kidding” was the first thing he said, letting his phone slip back into his pocket. “You really are blushing.”
My hands came up to my cheeks all on their own. They did feel hot.
“I did just run, like, ten blocks here.”
Like he’d caught me in a lie, his lip twitched. “Thought you didn’t run.”
“Walked,” I corrected.
“Very fast.”
Rolling my eyes, I meant to brush past him, quickly track down Camila, and explain that all I’d needed this morning was some peace and quiet to brainstorm for the Ashwood Annual. I didn’t like lying to her, but in this case, it felt necessary.
I couldn’t tell her I’d been out and about with the guy she wanted me to hate, and ended my night way too late, falling asleep in the aftermath of an amazing orgasm to entirely his credit.
But instead of letting me pass, Elliot threw his arm out and intercepted me before Camila could see through the glass. His hand curled around my waist, holding me in place, a low chuckle dangerously close to my ear.
“I wouldn’t have had to walk very fast if you had just woken me up this morning.” Playfully, I tried to escape his grasp, and didn’t succeed.
“After keeping you up for so long last night? It seemed cruel.” He played with a loose strand of my hair. “Like bludgeoning a baby deer to death. Flinging a small bunny into oncoming traffic. I couldn’t do it.”
“I’m serious.” I tried to be, at least. “You should’ve woken me up.”
He pouted. “You looked so cute.”
“Cute enough to let me wake up to my worst nightmare?” At this point, I was arguing just for the sake of it.
The urge to forgive him was almost as strong as my need to hold on to that flicker of fear telling me that there was more to his decision.
Sure, I’d met his family, told him about Mom.
Yes, he’d seen me naked, and very nearly taken my virginity.
But first and foremost, we were two interns competing for the same job.
No matter how hard it was to remember that, I had to.
“Your worst nightmare is . . . oversleeping?”
I put my hands on my hips. “And what about it?”
All Elliot did was laugh. His head shook in disbelief before he muttered, “See? Baby deer. Small bunny. I could’ve never woken you up this morning. You’re too cute. It would’ve hurt my heart.”
I finally gave up, melted into the way he pulled me against the wall beside the door to Camila’s studio. Disappearing in his arms, I sighed. “What are you trying to do here?”
“Not sure.” Mumbling into my hair, he added, “Keep you from telling Camila you’re here. I didn’t learn how to share growing up, Maeve.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that the second she senses your presence, I’ll have to give you up. I don’t really want to.”
The way he kissed my neck shouldn’t feel this good. Not out in the open, where anyone could walk by, and I could hear my bosses’ coughing through the wall. My head shouldn’t fall back against that same wall. I shouldn’t sigh against his skin, either.
But alas. “Your name’s in my calendar later today.” For that last brainstorming session.
“Not enough,” he grunted. “I wish you would’ve just stayed home.”
“Why?” I needed an answer to the question that had burned itself into my mind since his text. Why didn’t you want me here?
But the door right beside us opened, and bringing some distance between us was the only sensible thing we could do. Camila didn’t need to see us all over each other, and she definitely didn’t want to, either.
“Maeve?” She blinked at me, inspecting how I stood in the middle of the hallway, just about finding my footing in time to avoid stumbling.
“Surprise!”
Her eyes shot in Elliot’s direction, like she knew he was behind all of this, somehow. Gaze sliding back to me, she asked, “Are you okay?”
The genuine concern in her voice kind of broke me. Made me feel guilty beyond belief and sent a wave of regret from the tip of my toes to the top of my head.
I shouldn’t have gone this far with Elliot. Shouldn’t have kissed him, shouldn’t have let him touch me. Shouldn’t have given him enough power to make me late for anything. Never mind something as important as this internship.
My mother was currently rolling in her grave. And Camila would put me into my own, if she knew.
She took another step toward us, ready to rescue me should Elliot pounce and attack.
“Yes! Of course,” I said quickly. “Finished some brainstorming at home and came as soon as I could.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Elliot said you weren’t feeling well.”
Oh. Right.
“Feeling much better. Think I just needed some rest before getting back on my feet.”
Another suspicious glance in his direction before she finally seemed to let it go. Part of the reason it had been so easy was probably Hana, joining us in what had become a group meeting in the hallway.
“They’re waiting for you upstairs.” The words were directed at Elliot.
His nose twitched as he exhaled a loud breath. “Coming.”
Hana turned back on her heels, Camila gestured for me to follow her into the studio, and Elliot made sure all backs were turned toward us before he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and made his way to the elevators.
No explanatory words. No glances that could tell me who was waiting for him in the offices reserved for guests and stakeholders.
Screw trying not to worry. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t think of anything else.