Something deeper than dicks and racing hearts? Something that touched me? Something that reminded me of the scared, excited feelings I’d get around a cute boy back in school?
The craving inside me ever since I met Trevor has only grown. The idea of him leaving my place hurts me. When he’s not around, I feel like I’m missing out on something—a chance to get to know him better, a chance to reveal more of myself to him, a chance to connect with another human being.
A chance to feel his lips touching mine.
A chance to feel the weight of his body on me as we hold each other close.
And unless I’m crazy, I see something stirring in Trevor’s eyes as well. He seems knocked back by my words, like it didn’t occur to him that this might be something more than just a fling.
“You mean you … really want this to keep going?” he asks, his voice small and unsure. “You’re not just saying it?”
“Yes. I want this.”
His eyes detach as he stares at my chest, thinking. Then he raises his brow, all his cute forehead wrinkles showing, as he says, “We … can’t let anyone know. I can’t be the intern who’s involved with my boss.”
I nod resolutely, getting his point at once. “I can’t be the boss who plays favorites, who meddles openly with his subordinates.”
“My roommate and best friend will hate me. He’s an intern, too,” he volunteers suddenly. “Elijah. He’s the one who recognized my feet in the restroom.”
“Oh, I see.” I’m putting two and two together, remembering the first time he mentioned an Elijah—also that first night we met. “It was his idea to take you out to that club,” I recall.
“Yes. He can’t know.”
“No, he can’t,” I agree ruefully.
“We have to keep this completely professional at work. No little sexy side-eyes or inside jokes,” he states. “No secret little rendezvous in the bathroom stalls. We’re above that.”
“Way above that.”
Trevor’s eyes search for more things to say, his lips working without words, until he draws his gaze back up to my face. Then he stills, his lips parted.
I slowly close the distance between us and open my arms to let him in for a hug.
He hesitates for a second, then slowly falls into my arms to return the embrace. I stroke his back soothingly.
The act of hugging him so tenderly feels twenty times more intimate than anything we’ve done so far—even the blowjob, or sharing dinner, or spilling our hearts. Suddenly, I feel fear, like maybe I’ve just made things way too serious between us. As if this hug is some unspoken pact we’ve just made, to hide whatever this is that’s happening between us.
What is happening between us? It doesn’t have a name yet. And maybe that’s the most unsettling thing of all.
He lets go suddenly. I do, too. His face is unreadable, blank as a stone, and I wonder if perhaps he just experienced the same sort of fear course through him.
“I should get back to my place,” he tells me. “I’ve lied to my roommate. Told him I was asked to stay late at the office.”
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I … was tasked with dropping off the box of files to you.”
I’d nearly forgotten that was the reason he came here at all. “Of course. Sure.”
“Thanks for the tour.” Trevor turns, takes two steps away, then spins back to face me. “And for dinner.”
“We’ll do this again,” I tell him quickly, then experience an inner cringe at how desperate my words sound, like I’m afraid that when he leaves, I’ll never see him again. Do I really think he’s going to freak out the moment he gets home, quit the internship, and move to Canada?
Well, logic might say no, but my emotions tell me anything is possible.
This thing between us working out is also possible, I realize. We just need to keep it all a secret from everyone.
Secrets and lies are what I built a multimillion-dollar business upon, after all.
“I’ll walk you out,” I tell him, moving ahead to lead the way.
Trevor follows, quiet and wordless. When we pass the stairs, Lance is gone. Either he gave up and went back upstairs, or he heard us coming back down the hall and took off running.
Trevor reaches for the doorknob.
“Wait,” I blurt out.
He turns, his eyes widening expectantly, his lips parted.
I crash into him, slipping an arm around his back and tugging him in against my body as our mouths unite. I tilt my head, angling my lips right onto his. I kiss him like it’ll be the last time we ever kiss.
Look who’s all dramatic now.
When I let go and look at him, his eyes are wide and his lips, parted and reddened. I smile, satisfied, then pull open the door. “See you tomorrow, Trevor.”