4. Luke
The clack of the keyboard on the other table is soft and shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Maybe it’s because I know who’s typing and what she looks like today, with her hair in a loose braid and the added liner that highlights her green eyes. Maybe it’s because, despite how many times I’ve tried to nitpick everything as she accused me of, she retaliates by doing such a good job that even the perfectionist inside me is impressed.
Or maybe it’s because I’m ashamed of how I’m acting while still annoyed with how aloof and cold she is.
At the next firmer press of the keyboard button, I glance up and catch the satisfied smirk playing on her lips as she looks at her computer. It’s so reminiscent of the triumphant look she gave me long ago that my body responds before I can control it. I look away immediately, my jaw clenching as I try not to look again.
I don’t have patients today, but I have a lot of case studies to review after surgery supervision. The surgeries took most of my morning and early afternoon away from the office, but by late afternoon, I’m stuck here trying to read while Olivia keeps moving, typing, and making little noises that thoroughly distract me.
She sighs when she needs to crane her neck from all the sitting and typing. She hums a bit when she finishes inputting a patient file on the computer. She utters a little hiss when she gets through another stack of paper files, which I know would have taken hours with other medical assistants.
But no, not her. The woman’s a beast when it comes to reading and absorbing information, including how they should be handled. I’m used to giving my medical assistants a lot of instructions, but within her first week of working here, Olivia has anticipated everything and I don’t even need to ask anymore.
I know she’s doing her job, but it’s almost like she’s doing it too far ahead so she won’t have to talk to me.
And that’s annoying.
Another sigh pulls me from my reverie. I glance up and freeze when I find her stretching again, then massaging the nape of her neck as she closes her eyes. It’s such a vulnerable moment that I feel like I’m invading, but I keep staring, anyway, because I remember how she liked my mouth kissing that particular spot.
I scowl and look away. Again.
“Could you keep it down?”
Silence. Thinking she hasn’t heard me, I peek and find green eyes locked with mine.
“What?” I ask when she just keeps looking.
Olivia tilts her head, calm as a lake. “Have you always been this…ornery? Or was the man at the bar a mask?”
I raise a brow, trying to remind her that she’s the one who doesn’t want to discuss our past. She stiffens and remembers herself, then shrugs. “Never mind?—”
“Yes. When I’m not in the mood. Which was how I started at the bar until we got to talking.”
Surprise fills her expression at my answer. She mulls it over.
“I see. So I put you in a better mood?”
“You used to.”
I glance at her lips, then back to her eyes. She knows she put me in more than a better mood that night. Suddenly, the attraction between us flares and takes me by surprise. I’m caught in a hard moment, torn between wanting to egg her on and wanting to kiss her. The latter’s stronger, making me think about what it would be like to touch her again…because, my God, she’s still so touchable.
Fuckable.
An image of me taking her on her desk comes to mind. It evolves to my hands sliding in between her legs to find her wet and tight, then playing with her until she’s all pliant and moaning for me. It’s so visceral that my cock hardens before I can stop it, straining against my pants.
Danger.
“I did?”
Her voice takes me back, reminding me I’m out of my fucking mind. I shrug. “Hmm. But that’s all in the past, remember?”
I’m her goddamn boss. She’s the goddamn woman who doesn’t want me anymore.
Why the hell am I still acting like this?
“You’re right. Totally insignificant past.”
Her answer is dismissive. Along with the breaking of eye contact, it means she’s done and no longer interested in discussing it. I bite my tongue, the questions swimming in my head.
Why didn’t you call me?
Why are you treating me like it didn’t matter?
Why the hell are you so damn cold and acting like everything’s my fault?
I don’t have answers. I don’t like the effect she has on me, so I nip those questions in the bud and focus on the task at hand. I regret my words earlier as the office is now silent as a tomb, with Olivia barely making any sound.
It’s like a ghost has taken over and I hate that, too. I’m angry at her and I’m angry at myself.
An hour later, I frown as I get to the middle of a case study.
“This case study is supposed to have the patient files attached to it already. It’s incomplete. I need the files.”
I look up in time to see her frazzled expression, a far cry from the cool, composed Olivia I’ve been trying to get used to. Finally, I realize her computer is already turned off and she’s packing her stuff up.
“If I work overtime tonight and organize the files, would you please leave me alone with the overtime?”
I blink, comprehension dawning at what she’s getting at. “I’m not using this as a weapon to pick on you. These are Garrett Irving’s files. You know who he is.”
Her eyes widen. “The CEO’s son. Right.” She stands up and hovers over my shoulder to peer at the papers in my hand. I grip the papers tighter as her scent hits me: fresh spring, light but intoxicating. Then I catch the realization spreading on her face. “You’re right. The files should have been attached. I’ll do it now.”
I glance at her bag again, then shake my head. I might be nitpicky and irritable, but I’m not a complete asshole.
“Never mind that. I didn’t mean you had to do overtime?—”
“I’ll do it now, Dr. Jennings.”
Shock hits me at her firm tone. Her expression dares me to challenge her, revved for a fight, and a part of me wants to rise and give her that fight. I want to see her eyes blaze with fire and that mouth spit words until she loses her cool and shows me the real her without the mask.
The want hits me so badly that I’m seconds away from standing up and damning it all to hell.
But all my wants have to take a backseat because I wasn’t kidding about the importance of this. And she’s not backing down, either, so…
“Okay. I’ll help you.”
We work together, but not really together. I’m at my desk while she’s at hers, though we pushed them together so we don’t have to keep standing while we trade and check each other’s files. I’m focused on the task at hand and trying to do this faster, but I can’t help looking at her from time to time, either.
She’s focused, too—so focused that she doesn’t notice strands of her hair falling out of her braids, her shoes are tossed to the side, and the upper part of her scrubs are wrinkled from how much she keeps touching the nape of her neck. Later, I notice the constant fluttering of her lashes and her blinking, as if she’s getting weary of all the reading.
“You haven’t had dinner yet.”
She shrugs at my statement. “It can wait.”
Without a word, I head to the cafeteria and get the fresh spring rolls, then place them on her table along with a bottle of water. She looks up in surprise. “Thanks. I’ll pay you?—”
“It’s my treat.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but this time, it’s me daring her with my look. The disappointment is immense when she doesn’t engage, but I swallow that feeling and get right back to work.
Two hours later, she stretches again, a big smile on her face and her eyes twinkling. “Finally.”
“Yeah.”
“We did it.”
“You did it.” I gesture at the files. “I only helped out. You did most of the organizing.”
“We both did the reading.”
My lips quirk. She eyes the movement, a look flashing before her gaze meets mine. Something stirs in my stomach, then clenches when her expression softens.
Then she remembers who I am and the smile disappears. Olivia clears her throat.
“Anyway, I have to go. Have a good night, Dr. Jennings.”
Longing punches me in the gut, wanting the smile back…the softness back. Then I’m irritated with myself all over again for wanting those things back when I should be damn well moving on from whatever impact she left behind years ago. I clear my throat, too, then nod.
“Goodnight, Miss Davis.”
I stay behind and try not to look when she walks away. I put the desks back in place and turn off the office lights, then head to my car, where I finally feel the stress of a long day catching up. I’m used to long hours as it’s a part of my job, but the consecutive days lacking sleep have been killer.
I can’t wait to take a hot shower and collapse in bed. I can’t wait to close my eyes and forget about my assistant, though I know the second part’s harder. I’ll probably still be thinking about her like I did last night…and the night before.
I’ll probably still be fighting the urge to take my cock in my hand and stroke it to her image, particularly that one night when we both lost control and gave each other so much pleasure…
“Sir, I need you to turn this way, please.”
I blink and glance at the security guard, who directs my car in the other direction as it leaves the parking lot. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been a huge road accident, so they’re redirecting traffic.”
Great. That means the traffic tonight will be even crazier. I nod and turn as directed but slow down when I spot a figure trying to hail cabs and getting ignored, her expression so stressed.
Knowing she wants nothing to do with me, I should just keep driving, but…
“Hey.”
Olivia glances at me when I call her out and stop the car in front of her. “Hey.”
“Do you usually take a cab?”
She shakes her head. “The train. But they closed this area off completely due to the accident.”
And the cabs are full. My decision solidifies as I lean over and open the passenger door.
“Get in. I’ll drive you home.”