His disbelieving smile is fleeting. “Gigi, come on.”
“For sex,” I guess flatly.
“For whatever this is between us,” he corrects. “I have a hard time believing it was just me. Did it feel like regular sex the other night? The kind of sex you’ve had with other people?”
“Not sure that’s a fair comparison,” I say. “I’m betting my list is much shorter than yours.”
He sends a hand into his hair, looking away. I should feel guilty for that shitty jab, but I’m too distracted by the tight clench of his jaw, the way his neck flushes red in anger. This deep, ravenous feeling in the pit of my stomach shoves everything else aside.
“Right.” Alec turns back to me. “Then you’d know if I just wanted sex, I could get it anywhere.”
Exactly, echoes a chiding voice in my head. The assistant who sends underwear to Seattle could easily find someone to satisfy an itch. It isn’t about that, and you know it, Gigi. You’re being a coward.
I let out a shaking breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Yeah.” He blinks out the window, frowning. “Well, I guess we’ve answered that question.”
“What question?”
“Whether it was only like that between us because you didn’t know who I am.”
I’m not sure why this raises a contrary, defensive flag inside me. “That isn’t fair.”
His surprised gaze flashes to me. “How is that unfair?”
“You have to let me be hurt that I was being real and you weren’t.”
“Is that really what you think? That I wasn’t being real?”
And this, right here, is where he has me. He knows it, too.
We stare at each other, breathing fast and deep, worked up.
“If I acknowledge that I hurt you,” he says quietly, and when he fights a coy smile, it digs a dimple into his cheek, “then what?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling back. “Then… I don’t know.”
“Come here,” he says in a gentle purr.
Staying put requires pretending my feet are blocks of concrete. “I have to edit my article.”
He stares at me, jaw tensing, and then nods once. “Right. You’re on deadline.”
And… that’s it? He would just let me leave? I feel like a punctured balloon. My thoughts are a swirling storm of relief and lust and irritation and ambition and infatuation. Alec Kim has the wildest chemical effect on my blood.
I mean… technically, the article is written.
All it needs is editing.
And by calling me here, he’s given me twelve additional hours.
Excuses line up in my mind, and Alec watches me with increasing amusement the longer I do not turn and walk toward the door. Finally, I say, “You come here.”
With a quiet laugh, he walks over to me, standing so close I feel the heat of him all along my front. “And then what?”
Can he hear my heart? I swear it’s the loudest thing in this room. “I still don’t know.”
Alec reaches down, threading his fingers with mine. Holding my hand. “This?”