Kit (Chicago Blaze 8)

I’m there, though. I can’t help it. Part of me wants to be honest with Lou, but another part is unwilling to risk losing the city hall beat I’ve worked so hard to get.

I found Kit attractive from the moment I saw him, but I’m human. I’ve found people I met on the job attractive before. What I feel for Kit though is beyond his looks. He helped me search for Mr. Darcy in an ice storm and didn’t complain once. He doesn’t judge me for my quirks and anxiety; he seems to actually embrace them.

It was his reaction to me asking for his mom’s number that really did me in, though. I saw in that moment that cool, collected Kit has hurts and insecurities, too. My drive to dig deep and find a unique angle for his story fizzled and died in that moment. I just wanted to tell him that whatever it was that was bothering him, it was okay. That I wouldn’t ask about it again.

It’s not about the story anymore. I’ve got more than enough to churn out a three thousand word profile on Kit. But then what?

It’s hard for me, not knowing. I took a leap of faith with Zach and it turned out I was plunging off a cliff, and the landing hurt more than I ever thought possible.

I’m over it, Zach once said to me. You’re neurotic and uptight. Life’s too short to spend it with someone like you.

Those words cut deep. I vowed to never give a man that kind of power over me again. But have I already broken that promise to myself?

When Kit looked at me in the pool, and told me I’m beautiful, my heart took flight. His words were a sensual caress, making my heart pound and my skin tingle.

And if he has the power to dazzle me like that, to make me feel so incredibly sexy and powerful and good, he can probably already do the reverse, too. A rejection from Kit would hurt badly, even now. Even when we’ve never really started anything.

The promise is already there. The possibility. The hope.

When Zach married his mistress before the ink on our divorce papers was even dry, hope felt a million miles away. I hardened my heart and promised I’d never trust a man completely again.

I’m still pondering a lede for the story when my cell phone buzzes on my desk with an incoming text.

Kit: Hey, how are you?

Me: Pretty good. Just working on a story about a hockey player.

Kit: Yeah? He sounds like a pretty kickass dude.

Me: He’s okay.

Kit: Okay guys don’t make your nipples hard.

Me: What?? You have no idea what state my nipples are in.

Kit: In the pool the other day ;)

Me: I was just cold. Get over yourself.

Kit: Liar. It was like a sauna in there.

I smile at my phone screen, looking from side to side to see if anyone’s watching me. Which is ridiculous because it’s not like they’d know who I’m texting.

Me: If you keep distracting me I won’t get this story done…

Kit: Are you finishing it today?

Me: I don’t think so.

Kit: If I leave you alone will you finish it today?

Me: No, it’s a really long story. It’ll take me a while to write.

Kit: Long, huh? Like way bigger than average? Like a magnum story?

Me: You think it’s all about the size? Even long stories can be underwhelming. Too fast, and lacking in technique.

Kit: You wound me.

Kit: So will you finish it tomorrow?

Me: Maybe? I have to sit in on a really long edit board meeting tomorrow and I have a staff meeting too. I’ll hardly have any time to write.

Kit: Tell that fucker Lou he’s not paying you to sit in meetings all day. You need to be writing.

Me: I’ll see how that goes over.

Kit: I miss you.

Me: I can’t miss you until I finish this story.

Kit: Get writing then…

Me: When will you be home again?

Kit: Tomorrow, but then I have to fly out again early Friday.

Me: Back home Saturday?

Kit: Yep. And off on Sunday.

Me: I see.

Kit: Can we go out Saturday night?

Me: If I finish this story.

Kit: I think if your nipples have anything to say about it, you will.

Me: You seem fixated on my nipples…

Kit: You have no idea…

Me: Saturday night, then. Some of us have to work for a living, so I’m signing off to write.

Kit: Say lots of nice things about your favorite hockey player. Tell the world what your nipples think of me.

Me: Goodbye. I’m not responding to any texts from you for the next hour.

Kit: I’ll make a dinner reservation for Saturday at a hibachi place, where we share a table with like a dozen other people.

Me: Are you serious? That sounds horrible.

Kit: Ha. Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.

Me: I’m turning my phone off now.