Me: You’re killing me here, dude.
Luke: Come over tonight. Let me kill you a little more. I promise to wear one of those cottony shirts you love.
Me: Gah! Go away, I have to work.
Luke: See you tonight.
I shove my phone away with a groan. This whole “doing the right thing” is really beginning to suck. And it has only been two weeks. Why do I have to have the beliefs I have? Why can’t I be one of those women who can sleep with a married man and not blink twice?
“Callie, are you good to cover that mother’s charity lunch on Thursday?”
I look up to find my boss peering down at me expectantly. “Definitely. I’ve got it in my diary,” I say with a sweet smile. Shoot me now.
“Great. I have some more functions I want you to cover. I’ll email them through later today. How are you going with the weekend’s events?”
“I’ll have them to you on time.”
He grins. “I knew we hired the right person when we hired you.”
With that, he leaves me alone to die a slow, unhappy death filled with society events.
But at least I have a job, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
* * *
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d kill me with a cottony shirt, were you?” I ask Luke after he opens his front door to me that night.
He watches me intently. “I’m a pretty serious guy, so when I tell you something, you can be guaranteed I mean it.”
I step inside expecting him to move so I can pass him, but he doesn’t, and I end up in his arms. He embraces me while shuffling me to the side. Backing me up against the wall with one arm around me, he closes the door with the other.
“Hi,” he says in a low rumble. He lets me go, only to place both hands on the wall either side of my body, effectively trapping me.
His face is so close to mine, and his scent is all over me. Unable to form a coherent thought, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Uh, where’s Sean?” Because surely he should be here right now rescuing me.
Luke’s lips curl into a sexy grin.
Oh, no.
That’s not fair.
That sexy look needs to go.
“He’s at my mum’s tonight. A sleepover with Grandma. And Paris is out, so we have the place to ourselves.”
Jesus, why did I not ask all these questions before I came?
Mental note—know Luke’s family’s schedule better than they do.
I give Luke what I hope is a dirty look. “You need to take a step back there, buddy. This kind of move goes against our whole friend’s only thing we’ve got going on.”
His eyes search mine, and he doesn’t move. I endure a good ten minutes of hell before he finally steps back. Oh, okay, so it’s more like thirty seconds, but honestly, does the man not understand the word ‘friends’?
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he says, “I’m dying here, Callie.” He reaches for my top and grips the bottom of it. “And I know it’s not fair to you for me to say that because it’s my fault we’re stuck in this friend zone, but I want you to know how much I want you.”
“I’m dying, too. But as much as I’d like to forget we agreed to this, I can’t.”
“I know. And I won’t ever pressure you for sex, but surely friends can kiss?”