His brows shoot up in surprise. Honestly, I’m slightly surprised myself. Revolting isn’t the right word, but I’m on a roll.
“And if I had any romantic inkling toward you, I wouldn’t be wearing this simple, almost homely blouse that does nothing to show off my perfect, bouncy breasts.”
He wets his lips as he glances down briefly at my chest and then back up.
“And I wouldn’t be wearing underwear, either, on the off chance that you pulled me on top of this conference table and spread my legs for a small taste.”
His Adam’s apple bobs.
“And I sure as hell wouldn’t be mentally pleading for this conversation to end so I can pack up and retreat to my studio apartment to eat dinner peacefully alone without an imperious imbecile like yourself chirping in my ear about work relationships. Because, JP, if I wanted you, I would want to steal, consume, and savor every second I had with you.”
He reaches out to me just as I twist away to gather my papers. “But that’s not the case here.” I smile at him. “I can’t get away from you fast enough.” I am woman! Hear me roar!
His nostrils flare.
His jaw ticks.
And he stuffs his hands in his dress pant pockets where they belong.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up, I’ll leave since we’re getting nothing done here and a meatball sub is calling my name. I’m going to assume you approve of the bamboo filing cabinets.” I collect the papers together and then tap them on the table, evening them into one solid stack.
“We still can’t be friends,” he says, his voice strangled.
God, is he still on that? Let’s add mental ability of a gnat to his list of incompatible qualities.
“Good. When I said that the other night, I was just attempting to be kind, you know, since your company hired mine, but now that our feelings are out in the open, we can live our lives without this fake, bullshit friendship.” I gently place my papers in my folder and then in my bag along with my pens, keeping them color-coded, of course. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have an appointment to stuff my mouth full of meat.”
I move past him, my shoulder bumping against his, but he places his hand on my hip, pausing my retreat. His touch is barely a blip on my bodice, but I shiver reluctantly. Our shoulders meet, side by side, and when I look forward, avoiding eye contact with him, he leans in and whispers into my ear, his lips inches away.
“The only bullshit thing between us is that spiel you just laid out. Deny it all you want, but I know you want me. The quicker you accept that, the better you will feel.”
Despite the heavy beat of my heart, I know it’s my time to turn my head, and when I do, our noses nearly touch. With all the bravado I can muster, I say, “The sooner you realize I’m out of your league . . . the better you will feel.”
It wasn’t always like this between us. When I first met him, all I could think about was how truly, stunningly handsome he was, with his mossy-green stare and a cocky air about him that demanded my attention. He was everything a girl fantasizes about. For the briefest of moments, I thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be something between us. That if he asked me out on a date, I would’ve said yes. But when my business was toeing the line of becoming successful under his leadership, I knew I wouldn’t mix business with pleasure, not when I worked so hard to get to where I was.
So I pushed my initial thoughts to the side and, sadly, I’ve come to see him differently now.
He regularly waltzes into meetings smelling like last night’s perfume. He’s often distracted by his phone, and when I’ve looked over, there’s always been a different woman’s name on the screen. He’s flirty and clearly not someone interested in long-term anything. He teases about love, he jokes about forever, and he’s never serious. And that’s not what I want despite my initial attraction.
With my head held high, I move past him, out the door of the conference room, and to the elevators. I have no idea why JP is droning on about this attraction between us. It’s not as though I’ve led him on. I’m a firm believer in love. Therefore, I’m looking for love. Not a fling, not a sexy one-night stand. I’m looking for my soulmate, just like the soulmates on my semi-popular podcast. I want forever.
JP Cane can believe what he wants, but if there’s one thing I know for sure in this romance desert that is my life, he and I are so not meant to be.
JP
Let me guess . . . Kelsey told you we’re so not meant to be, right?