I laugh and scoot my chair out to give him some room.
He kneels down on his perfectly pressed trousers. I shouldn’t find it as hot as I do, but the cubicle heats up as he looks up at me from his spot on the floor. His gaze darkens as his eyes scan my crossed legs. My heart thuds in my chest at the pace of a jackhammer, and I’m surprised he can’t hear the erratic beats himself.
Whatever passes between us disappears as he crawls underneath the desk, giving me the perfect view of him on all fours.
Now who’s the one staring?
I ignore the voice in my head and choose to enjoy the show. Rowan’s body is nothing like my ex’s. Every inch of his lean body is packed with muscle like he runs for fun. His muscular calves stick out from beneath the desk, and his firm ass moves as he readjusts the cables down there. It takes every ounce of self-control in my body not to reach out and touch him. I take a moment to guess his shoe size. The only conclusion I come to is that I’m hopelessly immature and desperately horny.
Of course I’m attracted to my arrogant boss who lacks any sort of people skills. This has to be some cruel joke on me after everything I’ve been through. Maybe there is some kind of chemical imbalance in my body or gravitational pull toward assholes like Rowan.
What if jerks are my kink?
Well, at least it explains your unhealthy obsession with Mr. Darcy.
I barely get my breathing under control before he rises back on his feet.
Something about the way he looks at me has my blood reaching a new temperature. Goosebumps scatter across my skin despite the raging inferno spreading through my chest. It comforts me to know my body is just as contradictory as my brain.
Why him? Why me? My smile disappears. His hand flexes by his side before he pockets it.
Jane Austen, are you my guardian angel now? I look up at the high ceiling for answers but come up empty.
“What in God’s name are you whispering about?”
Oh shit. I said that aloud? “Is the computer all fixed now?” Sounds close enough to what I mumbled before.
“Yes.”
“Great. Thanks! You can see yourself out.” I throw his words back at him, half hoping for any kind of reaction. He offers me nothing but a frown and a pinched expression on his face.
Well, it’s a start.
He walks toward the entrance of the cubicle, taking his allure with him. Maybe I can finally think again once he’s out of my eyesight. There’s something about him that throws me off-kilter, like I don’t know what to say or do anymore.
He strolls out of my cubicle, leaving me behind with all the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I take a deep cleansing breath only to get hit with another inhale of his cologne.
Why does he have to smell so damn good? My head drops into my hands, muffling my frustrated groan.
I recover and hesitantly press the power button on my computer.
Let’s get to work.
9
Zahra
I give my presentation one last look through. After Jenny’s kind words, I thought I beat back the self-doubt, but it decided to come back with a vengeance.
I groan as I reassess the drawing I created of Nebula Land. While the PowerPoint reflects everything that Brady and I designed together, my sketch proves why I’m an English major. If I was meant to be an artist, I’d move to New York with all the other starving talent and eat ramen every day of the week until I have my big break.
Can I really present this to the group? My skills seem on par with a two-year-old child learning how to hold a crayon for the first time. It’s not like Rowan expects us to be perfect at everything, but my drawings are far from it. And seeing as I have zero skills in anything Adobe-related, I’m stuck relying on my own two hands, which are severely lacking.