Chemistry is not love.
That’s what my boss, the grumpy single dad with brilliant green eyes, says anyway.
I have my V-card. He’s ten years older than me. I work for him.
Nate Hughes has a million reasons why a relationship between us would never work. Honestly? It’s all a farce.
He can’t deny our connection. His soft smiles, brief touches, and protective behaviors come too easily. And when I need a place to stay? He can’t stop himself from offering me a room—though I’d prefer his bed. After all, there are sparks—delicious, sizzling sparks—when we’re together.
Our forced proximity brings things to a head. Our shared experiences and traumas draw us closer. Our undeniable attraction has us toeing the line between friends and lovers—whether Nate likes it or not.
He’s right—chemistry is not love. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t fall in love with him … even if he can’t love me back.