But nothing compares to the feel of those arms wrapped around my body, rousing me from my slumber and into the safety of their embrace.
Am I dreaming?
But then I feel the hard wooden desk beneath my forearms, unforgiving and cold, and realize exactly wher
e I am—my office.
I don’t know what time it is, and when I shoot a quick glance to the window, it’s pitch black outside. I must have been out for a while.
Shit. I fell asleep at my damn desk. I wonder how many people saw me here, sleeping on the job.
Way to make a good impression, Mira.
I feel firm hands grip my shoulders, and I’m reminded how I was woken up. I turn my head and look up at who—or what—has chosen to interrupt my hard-won beauty sleep.
Much to my surprise I see Owen, his face wracked with worry and concern. He slides his arms under mine, beckoning me to sit up.
Still drowsy, I follow his lead and sit up. I feel him slip his arm behind me and move to pick me up.
“Ugh, Owen,” I murmur sleepily, “what are you doing here? And why are you picking me up?”
He shakes his head and smiles, blinking slowly as he sighs.
“Shh, Mira. Just relax. You’ve been working too hard—you fell asleep at your desk. I’m just getting you out of here.”
I sigh, trying to wrap my head around the situation unfolding.
So is this how we play the ‘not taking things further’ game, is it?
He shows up at my office like a white knight to sweep me off my feet—literally—and take me away from the stresses of the work day?
No, I don’t think so.
“Owen,” I protest, my voice still soft and breathy from my impromptu nap. “I don’t need you to—”
I’m cut off by a firm finger to my lips as he shushes me and scoops me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
I gasp as I’m lifted from my seat into his grasp, and he chuckles softly when I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck, afraid of falling.
“Shh, Mira,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”
He swoops my purse up off my desk and strolls out of my office with me in his arms, ignoring my hushed protests.
“I don’t need you to take care of me, you know,” I mumble against his chest, inhaling softly and smiling as the subtle smell of his cologne surrounds me.
He chuckles softly and shakes his head, pressing the button to the elevator.
“Says the girl who fell asleep working at her desk. You didn’t even wake up when I walked into your office. Anyone could have come in.”
I hear the ding of the elevator and Owen carries me inside as the door slides open, leaning forward to press the button for the main floor.
“You’re working yourself too hard, Mira,” he scolds softly, his chin brushing the top of my head. “You need to take care of yourself.”
His words make my chest tighten, and I sigh, embarrassment washing over me that I have to be told such a simple thing.
“I know,” I whisper. “I just want to do the best I can and give this my all. I need to make this work.”
“You’ll never make it work if you work yourself to exhaustion,” he chides, brushing my cheek. “Rest is important.”