Jay snorts with one cold laugh. Then he eyes me sharply. “You aren’t really quitting, right?”
I glance back at the mirror. “Haven’t decided.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
I quirk an eyebrow his way. “Why?”
“Why??” he spits back incredulously. “You’re my biggest competition, that’s why. The others? They’re filler. You’ve got actual ideas—and an eye that beats the senior editors who already work here and make six figures. You’re the one they’re most likely to hire when our internship ends.”
I consider Jay for a moment, wondering where this turnaround came from. Has he felt like this all along? Or is this some kind of softer side coming out that he lets no one see? “They could very well hire us both,” I point out. “We won’t know until the end of the summer … if I stay.”
“If you stay.” He takes a step forward, putting himself in my face. “And you’d better fucking stay. Because I won’t accept a job at this place by default. I want to win it.”
A new fire swells inside me, a fire much like the one I had before I even stepped foot on the plane departing Kansas, except brighter, sharper.
“You like me,” I decide, smirking.
Jay’s face contorts. “Excuse me, coffee bitch?”
“You like me,” I say again, grinning now.
He runs through about twelve different replies, stopping himself each time. Then he scowls, pouts for half a second, and at last says, “I like a healthy competition, alright? And if you choose to stay … I promise I’ll behave. No more coffee runs. No more cruelty. I will die of fucking boredom if you leave.”
I give it a moment’s thought. Then I smile at him and say, “Well, I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for my decision, just like Irving has to. Yes,” I say, answering a question he didn’t ask, “we’re on a first-name basis now. Maybe you should try almost-quitting, too,” I cheerily tease him, then make my way for the door.
“I swear, Connor,” Jay mutters to my back, “I don’t know if you’re an idiot, or a fucking genius.”
I glance back at him over a shoulder, and the settled, cool-mannered look on Jay’s face tells me he more than likes me. I’d daresay he admires me, even if in some fucked up, slightly unhealthy way. I did point out to Bree on my first day that there was more to Jay, a reason he was the way he was, and I always try to see the good in people.
I’m still not totally sure it’s there, but I give Jay a smile anyway, nod at him for a farewell, then make my way to the elevator.
In the lobby, I find a familiar face seated on a bench by the entrance. Upon seeing me, he’s on his feet at once, and a million nerves run past his eyes.
I come up to him. “Got your text,” I state.
Alan’s face is flushed, as if he raced to get here. “I, uh …” He sighs and shakes his head. “I needed to tell you something. I’ve been wanting to. I even tried to once or twice, but …”
Ah. So that’s what he wanted to talk about.
“I already know.”
His eyes flash with surprise. “He told you?”
“Photo on his desk.” I smile. “Your mother Liu is beautiful, and your father is smitten, even twenty-five years later. I’d say, I think your mother is one very lucky lady.”
“Well, so am I, if you aren’t pissed at me.”
I could stare into his eyes for hours. What is it about this guy that so easily hypnotizes me? It’s more than his sexy features, or cute smile, or his clean and intelligent demeanor, or the way he is so attentive to me.
There is something deeper about Alan I can’t even put into words.
“I’m a little pissed at you,” I tell him.
His face glosses over. “You are?”
I lift my fingers and pinch them. “This much.”
Alan smirks, realizing I’m toying with him. He decides to play along with me, stuffing his hands shyly into his pockets—which does wonders for his toned biceps—then sweetly glancing up at me. “Well, is there something I can do to make it up to you?”
I come right up to him and place my hands on his hips. “You could let me call you my boyfriend.”
His eyebrows shoot halfway up his forehead.
Uh, okay, maybe that was too soon.
“I mean, I know it’s only been a couple weeks,” I quickly point out. “And maybe I’m … moving a bit fast. But isn’t that how things are done here? I just want to learn.” I pull him against me, bringing our faces close. “You gotta teach me.”
Alan bites his lip, his bright eyes dropping to my mouth. A sinister glint is in them as he smirks. “I think I might be ready to teach a country boy some tricks.” The playfulness vanishes. “Are you sure you’re okay with the fact that I concealed who I was? I mean, I really came here prepared to be chewed out, or have you never want to speak to me again, or—”