Chapter 7
SEVEN
Ihave a sweat stain under my boobs. My thighs are chafing. I can’t breathe.
“One more time, ladies! You’re killing it!” the instructor yells in a disgustingly cheery voice from the front of the room.
Oh, I’ll be killing soon.
Annie lets out an enthusiastic “woo!” from my right, and I reconsider our friendship. The last time I went with her to one of her gym classes, I swore to myself I would never, ever give in again. It doesn’t matter how good Annie looks in leggings. I don’t need an ass like hers. It’s not worth it.
Yet here I am, dying.
Forty minutes of pure fucking torture later, we’re leaving the gym.
“If I ever so much as suggest that I want to come with you again, just shoot me in the head. It would be a mercy killing,” I say, which is not overdramatic and actually very reasonable.
She smacks my arm playfully. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You don’t get it,” I begin. “When she told us to speed up, I saw the fucking tunnel. I’m never stepping through those doors again. I swear on my mom’s life.”
Annie laughs and rolls her eyes, but her smile softens. “How’s your mom, by the way?”
Oh boy. I’m about to be the biggest bummer.
“Not great,” I admit. “The diner closed, so she’s out of a job. I’ve been sending her money, but I don’t know if it’s enough. I’m worried she’s going to lose the house.”
“Fuck.” Annie shakes her head. “That sucks.”
I nod. “I’m afraid she’s going to stop accepting the money at some point. She’s proud like that.” I sigh. “I just don’t want her to end up in some shitty apartment somewhere. She loves her house.”
We round a corner, and I walk straight into a wall. At least that’s what it feels like.
A familiar pair of green eyes meets mine.
“Hello, Miss Michaels.”
Oh no.
“Mr. Bennett.”
Next to me, Annie goes completely still. Then her eyes widen. “Oh my god. You’re Mr. Bennett.”
“Great observation there, Annie. Let’s go.”
I grab her arm and try to pull her away. She doesn’t budge.
Damn those gym classes.
“It’s so interesting, seeing you in person,” she says, openly staring. “I’ve seen pictures, obviously, but you can’t really tell how tall someone is from those.”
“Annie, we’re going to be late.”
We have absolutely nowhere to be.
“Oh, we don’t have to rush yet.” She tilts her head, sizing him up. “You’re quite the gym rat, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking at Annie. “Who are you?”
“Annie Hopkins, Carly’s roommate.” She sticks out her hand. He shakes it. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Clank.”
His brow furrows. “That’s not—”
“Let’s go.”
I shove Annie. Hard.
“Okay, okay,” she says and finally starts moving. “Geez.”
“I’ll see you at the office,” I say to Mr. Bennett while practically herding Annie away.
He gives me a strange look, and I realize I’m still in my gym clothes. There’s a very real possibility I have pit stains.
Great.
Annie twists around. “Thanks for not letting her die!”
He opens his mouth, then closes it.
When he’s out of earshot, she turns to me. “That man is the hottest man I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“I thought you were into girls.”
“And that makes me blind?” she says with a snort. “Just because I don’t want to fuck him doesn’t mean I can’t see that he is like, sex on legs.”
I make a face. “Who even says that anymore?”
“You’ve been holding out on me.” She points an accusing finger at me. “If I’d known he looked like that, I would have stopped nagging you about dating other people a long time ago. Poor Joshy boy doesn’t stand a chance.”
I need to try to date Josh again.
The realization hit me on Monday morning when I caught myself staring at Mr. Bennett’s hands in a meeting. I was practically salivating. It was the kind of creepy stare that should have put me on a watch list.
I desperately need to find someone else to focus on.
Carly Michaels: Hey :)
Josh Stanton: Hey!
Carly Michaels: Wanna swing by my desk real quick?
Josh Stanton: Omw
A few minutes later, Josh steps out of the elevator, carrying two cups of coffee. “Here you go, madam.” He hands one to me. “I got it just how you like it. Splash of cream.”
I accept the coffee, notice it’s practically black, and quickly school my expression.
He tried.
“Thank you. That’s so sweet.”
Unlike the coffee.
He leans against my desk and takes a sip from his own cup. “So, did you want to talk about something specific, or did you just want company?”
“A little bit of both,” I say, flashing him a smile. “I wanted to apologize for canceling on you last week.”
He waves me off. “You don’t have to apologize. Something came up. I get it.”
I lift the cup to my lips and take the smallest possible sip. It’s disgusting. I fight back the grimace trying to take over my face.
Mr. Bennett’s door opens just as I set the cup on my desk. His gaze lands on Josh, then on me, then back on Josh. A tiny furrow appears between his brows.
“Another social call?” he says. “I don’t remember writing that into either of your job descriptions.”
Josh shakes his head. “I was just dropping off coffee.”
“Coffee?” Mr. Bennett glances at the cup on my desk. His eyebrows lift. Then the corners of his mouth start to twitch.
No.
“Miss Michaels,” he says. “I’ll be damned.”
Don’t.
“Have you started drinking adult coffee now?” The rat is full-on grinning.
Josh looks between us. “Adult coffee?”
Mr. Bennett gives a low laugh. “Oh, you’ve never seen Miss Michaels drink coffee?” I will commit violent crimes. “It’s mostly cream and sugar,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink anything as dark as what’s in that cup.”
“Oh,” Josh says, deflating a little.
I bring the cup to my mouth again and take a big gulp. Tar. Straight-up tar. How do people drink this?
“It’s good,” I lie. “I drink it like this all the time.”
Mr. Bennett snickers. I shoot him a look.
Josh gives me a weak smile and pushes away from the desk. “You don’t have to finish it for my sake. I should get back down anyway.” He nods at Mr. Bennett. “Bennett.”
Mr. Bennett gives him a curt nod in return, and Josh heads toward the elevators.
I turn to my boss, giving him my iciest stare. “Did you want something?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against my desk, occupying the exact same spot Josh had been standing in moments ago. Unfortunately, my brain immediately notices that Mr. Bennett fills out a white dress shirt significantly better than Josh does.
“Were you really going to drink that?” He motions to the cup.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
He tilts his head slightly, studying me. “Do you like him?”
Oh my god. Mind your own business.
“I don’t think that concerns you.”
His mouth curves. “It does, actually. It’s against our HR policy.”
“Interesting.” I tap a finger against my lips in mock thought. “So what does the policy say about our visits to the hospital?”
He shakes his head, a small smile still playing at the corner of his mouth, and drops a thick stack of papers in front of me. “I need you to go through this and give me the SparkNotes.”
Then he disappears back into his office, leaving me alone with the stack of papers.
I stare at the closed door.
What the hell was that?
My computer dings, and a message appears on the screen.
Josh Stanton: Hope I didn’t get you in trouble!
Carly Michaels: No trouble here! Just Mr. Bennett being weird. I’m sorry about him
Josh Stanton: Don’t be. I’m glad he told me about the coffee. Now I know what to get you next time :)
Carly Michaels: That’s sweet
Carly Michaels: What are you doing tomorrow night, by the way?
Josh Stanton: I don’t have any plans. Why?
Carly Michaels: I really want to try that lasagna.
I arrive at Josh’s apartment a few minutes late.
It took me forever to decide what to wear. Annie wasn’t home, so I had no one to consult during my mini fashion crisis. What exactly is the dress code for a dinner date at someone’s apartment? Do you dress up? Keep it casual? Wear a dress? Jeans?
I settled on jeans and a slightly booby top. It felt like a good middle ground.
I regret it the second he opens the door. Not because I feel over- or underdressed, but because of the split second his eyes leave my face and land on my chest. He doesn’t linger. He isn’t creepy about it. But that one quick glance makes something very, very clear to me.
I don’t see him in a sexual way whatsoever. And that’s a problem, because he’s supposed to be my distraction.
I need to remedy this.
We sit side by side at his breakfast bar. Soft music plays in the background, and lit candles cast dancing shadows over the walls. The lasagna is delicious, and the conversation is nice. He pours me another glass of wine, and I sip it while taking in the sparse decor.
It’s a very typical single-man-in-his-thirties apartment. A gray sectional in the living room. Framed posters hung just a little too far apart. Weird gadgets here and there.
“I decorated the place myself,” Josh says proudly when he catches me looking around.
I can tell.
“It’s nice.” I point toward a slightly droopy monstera in the corner. “I like the plant.”
Josh beams. “Thanks. I consider myself a plant daddy.”
Jesus Christ.
I take a sip of wine and change the subject. “So you’re from Colorado?”
He starts telling me about the mountains and how he practically grew up on a snowboard. The conversation drifts into sports territory, and I try my best to pivot. When we’re done eating, I suggest we move to the couch. Josh collects our plates and tells me to get comfortable.
I curl up with my wine glass and watch him move around the kitchen.
He’s objectively attractive. Tall, with nice shoulders and an even nicer smile. I let my eyes linger on his back as he loads the dishwasher. It’s a good back.
Not as good as Mr. Benn—
Damn it.
Once he’s finished cleaning up, he joins me on the couch. He turns to face me, and I meet his eyes. They’re a nice, warm brown. Kind of like mine, actually. Is that weird? I don’t know.
I try to give him what I hope is a sultry smile and scoot a little closer. He’s wearing that cheap cologne again.
“I’m having a really nice time,” I say, lowering my voice.
His eyes drop to my mouth. “Yeah?”
I lean in.
The kiss is chaste, but nice. He has soft lips, and I don’t mind them touching mine. His hand moves to my waist, and I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s a little coarse. We kiss for a minute, maybe two, before he pulls back.
“Wow,” he breathes.
Really?
I don’t know what to say to that, so I press my lips to his one more time in a quick peck.
He holds my gaze. “I’ve wanted to do that for some time now.”
“I had a feeling,” I say, smiling.
He blushes. “It was obvious, wasn’t it?”
“A little.” I bump my knee against his. “It was cute.”
We share a few more kisses before I decide it’s time to head home. At the door, he tells me he wants to take me out to dinner this weekend. A real restaurant this time. I agree, because there’s no good reason not to.
As I leave his building, I think back to the kiss. It wasn’t bad, not at all. There just weren’t any sparks. At least not for me. But does it have to be? Does every kiss have to be filled with fiery passion?
No, I decide. Plenty of people build relationships without fireworks.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
I look down, expecting Annie. She knows I’m on a date and has been sending me increasingly unhinged check-in texts all night. The last one simply said: If he has a sword collection, leave.
But it’s not Annie.
Mr. Bennett
Send me the revised investor deck asap
I stop on the sidewalk and type back.
Sure
Three little dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again.
The executive summary you wrote was good. Keep it as is
I stare at the message. Was that a compliment? From Mr. Bennett?
Something stupid happens in my stomach. A little flip. A tiny, traitorous flutter.
No.
I shove my phone into my pocket and start walking.
Josh is attractive, thoughtful, and an all right kisser.
Josh is attractive, thoughtful, and an all right kisser.
Josh is attractive, thoughtful, and an all right kisser.