Only with You (The Best Mistake 1)

Gray had no one.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven. If she hurried, she could probably make it home in time to see whatever trashy reality show was geared toward single women with no plans on a Friday night.

Gray still hadn’t seen her, so it wasn’t like he’d know that she’d abandoned him to a Friday night even more pathetic than hers. Sophie might be alone, but at least she wasn’t working. She tugged her wine-stuffed yoga bag farther up her shoulder and quietly picked up her keys. Should she say hello? What if he just wanted some peace and quiet?

Or worse, what if he didn’t want to be alone?

Maybe she’d just pop her head in and say hi. He’d probably be horrified to realize she existed outside the hours between nine and five, but she couldn’t just sneak away.

He turned his head slightly to grab another file and her heart lurched as she saw his profile. He didn’t just look lonely. He looked sad.

And if there was anything Sophie couldn’t turn her back on, it was a sad creature. She clenched her fingers around the keys, inexplicably nervous.

“Gray?” she called out, as though she’d just now realized there was someone else in the building. His head snapped around as he spotted her through the glass wall, and she was relieved to see that while he didn’t quite smile at her (that would be a first), neither did he look annoyed at the interruption.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked, moving toward his office and leaning against his doorway. “It’s seven o’clock.”

“Working,” he replied, gesturing to the stack of files and his laptop.

“Have you eaten?” She didn’t know why she asked. She’d only meant to say hello and make sure he wasn’t, you know…like suicidal or something.

But close-up, he looked even more lonely and pathetic than she’d expected.

“Eaten?” he repeated.

“Yes, Gray, food. Normal people consume it to give them energy, joy, maybe a little extra padding around the middle?”

He stared at her, and she had the unsettling feeling that it had been a really long time since someone had cared about whether or not he’d had anything to eat.

She sighed. “I’ll order pizza. You’re not a freaking vegetarian or something, are you?”

“You saw me eat chicken at your parents’ house.”

“Well, sure, but I also watched you drink black coffee, which I know you hate. I hardly think getting verbal confirmation of your eating habits is unwarranted.”

“I don’t need any pizza. I can eat when I get home.”

“Which would be, what? Frozen dinner? Scrambled eggs? Please. It’s Friday night. Come on, humor me. I can’t indulge in a meat lover’s combo alone.”

“You’re eating pizza? Here? With me?”

“Why not?” she said with a shrug.

At least this pizza would totally be guilt-free. Calories didn’t count when you were just feeding your lonely boss.

Once again, the thought of Gray being lonely caused a funny fluttering in her stomach, which she chalked up to hunger pangs. Thirty minutes later she was down in the lobby, tipping the pizza boy and eag

erly inhaling the scent of Romio’s house special.

Trying not to drool, she stopped by the office kitchen to grab some paper plates and napkins. As an afterthought, she also grabbed a fork and knife because Gray seemed the fastidious type.

Sophie paused and remembered her gym bag.

Oh, why the hell not? She grabbed a corkscrew that some of the sales guys kept around for spontaneous in-office happy hours. Pizza went better with wine, as did awkwardly intimate dinners with one’s stilted boss. Armed with a bottle of red and a box of greasy heaven, Sophie walked back into Gray’s office without knocking.

His eyes flicked to the pizza box. Then to the wine. He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t go all prudish on me,” she said as she set the box on the corner of his desk. “It’s a Friday night, and I fully intend to enjoy this bottle of wine even if it’s not on my couch like I’d planned.”