Head Over Feels

I quirk a smile. “Didn’t know you cared, Bell.”

She rolls her eyes but quirks a smile as she sets the award back on the shelf. It’s slightly askew, similar to how she leaves me feeling. “Of course, I do. We’re friends.”

I sit back and take her in. She’s as beautiful as she was the day she fell on top of me seven years ago. Her sweetheart face is a bit fuller, her hair a little lighter. It’s long again after cutting it to make our friend Cammie feel better about a bad haircut.

But that’s Tealey—the woman who came back into my life five days after our fateful encounter when my friend Cade started dating her friend Cammie, and our two groups merged into one.

Any hopes of dating Tealey Bell were squashed back then, just like those strawberries between us.

“I still don’t get why that stuff is important.”

“It’s not. The title is utter nonsense, but the perks are nice,” I say, trying not to let myself focus too much on her.

Our eyes stay locked for a few seconds before she averts hers again. “By perks, I assume that means having your choice of date every night of the week?”

This time, I sigh, tilt back in my chair, and fold my arms behind my head. “I wouldn’t say every night, but it’s good to have options.”

“Options. Okay . . .”

“It’s for charity, so how can I say no?”

“No,” she replies dryly but then grins. “Just like that. It’s easy. Anyway, there are other ways to give back to your community than to . . .” Her brows pinch together. “What did you have to do to win this?”

“Have sex with prominent donors.”

“What?” Her eyes dart to mine, the soft blues brighter in the afternoon sunlight flooding my office. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“That I need to tell you says everything.”

Amusement dances in her smile. Returning to the award, she runs a finger down the side of it. “The phrase most eligible downplays the fact that you’re not looking to become ineligible.” Her brow furrows, displeased. “It’s like false advertising to the women who think they can snag you.”

“What exactly does snagging entail?” I’m an attorney, not a detective, so I have no idea where she’s leading this conversation. I’m enjoying our chat but also wading through until she opens up about the real reason she’s here. I know for a fact that Tealey didn’t drop by to talk about my accolades, and she didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood, considering how far apart our neighborhoods are.

“Weren’t you the one who said you prefer the wrong woman, so you have a built-in excuse not to call her the day after your tawdry affair?”

She’s good with the details. Maybe she wouldn’t make such a bad attorney after all.

“That was years ago, and tawdry is not a word synonymous with me. I’m top-notch and more than generous if you know what I mean.”

I expect a laugh or knowing grin at the very least, but she silently crosses the room to look out the window instead. Her gaze lengthens into the distance of the Manhattan skyline. It’s unlike her not to volley when I give her the perfect setup.

When the silence extends, I notice the change in her demeanor—all lightness being held hostage by the thoughts that appear to consume her. I sit forward again and pick up a pen. “It’s quite a trek from Brooklyn for a one-hour lunch break. Anything specific bring you by?”

Hesitant, she exhales slowly. “Yes.”

Her apprehension concerns me. She’s not usually one to hide her feelings. “What’s going on, Tealey?”

“Rad?” With her Bahama blue eyes set on mine, she drags her teeth over her lip. “I need . . . I need you.”

The pen snaps, causing us both to look down at the ink on my hands. “Shit.”

She rushes to grab a tissue from the box on the shelf and then to me. “What happened?” Taking my hand in hers, she starts rubbing my palm to no great avail.

Stopping her by stilling her hand, I ask, “You need me?”

“Yes, I need someone I can trust,” she replies, returning to the distraction of my hands. Peeking at me from under long lashes, she adds, “A lawyer, and you’re a lawyer.”

Was it foolish to even consider the idea of her meaning anything more than needing my legal skills? Probably. Yet, because of the fool I am, I stupidly believed this was some long-overdue opportunity to . . . to what exactly? Clenching my jaw, I run through what the hell I thought this could be—a hookup, a precursor to a date? The whole situation with Tealey is impossible.

Fucking fool.

I switch gears, burying my personal feelings. “Why do you need an attorney?”

Losing hope for cleaning my hands, she looks around the office as if her nerves have taken over. “Anything you can offer, advice or otherwise, I’ll take.”