The Office Rival: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

Haden: Yes.

I jump out of bed and, without thinking, walk down the hall and tap on his door. He says to come in, and when I enter the room, I’m surprised to see him shirtless and reading a book. I’m not surprised it’s a Stephen King novel.

Don’t look at his abs, even though they deserve to be looked at.

“I can’t sleep.”

“I figured since you were on Twitter for the last hour.”

“You follow me?”

He nods and pats the bed beside him. I move closer to the edge of the bed, trying to create some much-needed distance between us.

“I hate that movie. Who writes a book about clowns killing children?”

“A very talented author.” He chuckles.

“Our kid is never watching that movie,” I tell him.

He keeps still, and I turn to look at him, wondering why he remains silent. Okay, avoid the fucking six-pack because you know it’s only the hormones. If I wasn’t pregnant, I wouldn’t look at him this way.

“Is the baby moving now?” he asks.

“Uh, no… why?”

“You’re squirming.”

“Oh… just uncomfortable.” Great lie.

His eyebrows raise in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“My back is stiff from the extra weight.” Fantastic lie!

“Here,” he says, then shuffles behind me.

I feel his hands press against my upper back rubbing the spot that needs the most attention. I let out an involuntary moan and regret it almost immediately. The warmth of his breath is only inches from my ear, and I feel the goosebumps settle across my skin.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” I almost choke.

Allowing my body to relax, I close my eyes and enjoy his gentle caress until the baby moves again. Quickly, I grab his hand and move it toward the spot where the baby kicked. He moves in closer behind me until his chest is pressed up against my back. The echoes of our heavy breathing are the only sounds heard, and his soft breaths are inching along my skin, taunting me, teasing me until I am feeling things I know I shouldn’t.

Barely above a whisper and under his touch, I warn him that we shouldn’t be doing this.

“We’re not doing anything,” he murmurs back.

“Are you sure about that?”

I know I’m not sure about anything, except for how right he feels at this very moment. How right he always feels when he touches me. How my body does this thing I cannot explain. It is almost like it’s possessed with feelings and desire for a man who’s unattainable, a man I loathe because he is a downright jerk.

“All I’m doing is letting the baby know who I am.”

With my eyes closed, I respond quietly, “The baby knows. I wonder why it moves every time I’m near you?”

His hands move around my stomach, tracing my skin like a fragile piece of broken glass until he has his arm around my torso, pulling me in closer to him. I close my eyes again, and this time I swear it’s his lips against the base of my neck brushing along, warm, teasing me with a slight flick of the tongue. Maybe I’m just imagining things. I open my eyes the second his phone vibrates on the bed. The cool air grazes my skin instantly, and I know he has pulled away.

“Hey, baby,” he answers.