“You didn’t. I came over to talk because I wanted to. But what I was going to suggest before you so rudely interrupted to apologize”—he winks at me so that I know he’s kidding—“is that we get a drink after work. Or several drinks. You can bitch about your bad day, I can commiserate…it’ll be fun. ”
“She’s already got plans for tonight. ”
Zayn freezes as Ethan walks up behind where I’m sitting, and so do I. I’d left my cubicle to get away from thoughts of him, and it never occurred to me that I would see him here. Which seems stupid now, considering that two of the four times I’ve seen the man at work it’s been in this very room. But I figured that today he’d be busy with world domination or something—surely he has something better to do than stake out the cafeteria. Trifecta can’t be the only small company waiting around for him to crush their dreams.
“Actually, my plans have been canceled. ” I turn to Zayn. “I’d love to get a drink. Where should I meet you?”
“Oh, um, how about—” He breaks off as Ethan turns on him. Ethan doesn’t say anything, but then he doesn’t have to. His look is enough to have Zayn clambering from the table and backing up, hands extended out in front of him in the universal gesture of I didn’t know she was taken, man. He doesn’t even bother to look at me when as he calls, “Maybe some other time then. Okay, Chloe?”
Needless to say, he doesn’t wait around for my answer. I turn to Ethan, ready to tell him off for sticking his nose in my business. And find him staring at me with the hyperintense focus of a predator about to bring down his prey.
Chapter Thirteen
I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat, try to force myself to look away from the intensity of his gaze. But I’m trapped, completely ensnared, and he knows it. Worse, he uses it.
Instead of sitting across from me in the booth as Zayn did, Ethan slides in next to me—forcing me to either move deeper into the curve of the booth or sit with my entire body pressed up against his. I move deeper, of course, but it doesn’t matter. Those brief moments of contact are branded onto my body from shoulder to knee, so that I can still feel his heat even with close to a foot of space separating us now.
Furious, disconcerted, aroused, I wait for Ethan to say something. He’s the one who burst into the conversation uninvited. He’s the one who chased my friend away. And he’s the one who has yet to look away from me.
His blue eyes are steady, unblinking, as if they’re cataloguing everything about me. Worse, as if they can see straight through to the heart of me, to everything I’ve worked so long to keep hidden.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?” The words burst from me without permission. “It’s rude. ”
“And here I thought rude was canceling plans at the last minute without an explanation. ”
“Is that why you’re here? For an explanation?”
“It sure as hell isn’t so I can watch you make a date with another man!” He closes his eyes, takes a couple of deep breaths, and when his eyelids finally lift again, the intensity is gone. In its place is a flat, hard stare that tells me he wants answers…and warns me that there will be hell to pay if I don’t provide them.
But I’m not in the business of jumping simply because a man tells me to, even if that man is Ethan Frost. So this time I do keep my mouth shut and wait for him to start things off. After all, it’s not my job to make things easier for him.
“You want to tell me what happened?” he asks after what I swear is the longest, tensest sixty seconds of my life. “I thought last night went well and then suddenly you’re writing me a ‘get lost’ email. And a damn obnoxious one at that. ”
“I disagree. I was perfectly polite. ”
“If by polite you mean abrupt to the point of rudeness. ” He shoves a hand through his hair, and for the first time it occurs to me that he’s as frustrated, as mixed up, by the crazy chemistry between us as I am. It’s an unexpected revelation, one that should give me some feeling of control but somehow only makes me feel more confused. More frightened.
“I changed my mind. I’m allowed to do that. ”
“You absolutely are,” he agrees. “But I want to know why. I think you owe me that much. ”
“I don’t owe you anything!”
“Really?” Quick as a striking snake, his hand flashes out. Grabs on to my wrist. And then he’s pulling me closer, until our bodies are once again touching and his face is only inches from mine.
“Let me go!”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I’ve given you time and leeway and as much control as I’m capable of, but it’s still not enough for you. ” He leans forward until his lips are all but touching mine. “Would you really rather go out with that harmless little boy you were just talking to instead of me?”
He’s so close that I can see green flecks mixed in with the wild blue of his irises.
So close that I can smell the minty scent of his breath.
So close that I can feel the reckless heat of his body pouring into mine.
I take a deep breath, and as I do, my whole body lights up with arousal. Because it’s his air that I’m breathing, his essence that I’m drawing deep inside myself. And despite everything, despite all I know about him and all my righteous indignation, it feels so good. So perfect. So right.
He brings his hand to my mouth, brushes his index finger across my lower lip. Once, twice, then again and again until I yield. My lips part on a shattered gasp and his finger sneaks inside, strokes across the very tip of my tongue.