Technically, she’s right, but I feel connected to her in a way that can’t be measured in minutes or seconds. It surpasses that. It makes no sense, but I know that she feels it too.
“It was special,” I say the words even though I know they sound cliché. “I told you I’ve thought about you daily since then. I wasn’t lying.”
“It’s not as simple as that.” Her hand goes to her forehead. “It’s complicated, West.”
“It’s not,” I argue. I never argue with women over this shit. If one decides she’s had enough of me, I move on. The same is true if I’m tired of a woman. I’ll say my goodbyes, wish them well, and forget about them.
That hasn’t happened yet with Linny. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since we were together in Vegas. I don’t know how to handle that.
“Dump Roland, have dinner with me and take me home with you.” I lean closer to her. “It’s as simple as that.”
She shifts in her seat, pulling back from me. “I dumped him on Saturday.”
Thank Christ.
“That doesn’t mean anything can happen between us.” She’s quick to add. “We have to forget about Vegas. This needs to be strictly professional.”
“We’re past that.” I rest my palms on my knees. “You can’t tell me that you’re not feeling the same pull to me as I am to you.”
She closes her eyes briefly, her neck craning back. “West.”
My name comes out of her soft lips like a plea, a wish, a needy request.
“Linny,” I whisper. “Just let yourself feel. We were good together that night. We can have more of that.”
“We can’t.” Her eyes fly open and lock on mine. “If I sleep with you again, I’ll lose everything.”
Chapter 27
Linny
That was melodramatic. That’s not who I am, but every word is true.
West is rubbing his temples. He hasn’t said anything in response to my declaration that I can’t sleep with him again.
I owe him more of an explanation than what I’ve given considering I just spent almost an entire week pretending I didn’t know him.
“West?” I say his name softly. “I’m sorry.”
He looks down, avoiding eye contact with me. “For what?”
I want to reach out and touch his shoulder, but if I do that, I’ll feel that same addictive rush of electricity that charged through my body that night in Las Vegas.
I rest my hands in my lap, clasping them tightly together to try and mask how badly they’re shaking.
“I was wrong when I pretended not to know you,” I say the words that I should have said a week ago.
He finally looks at me, his expression impassive. “Why did you do it?”
I wish the answer were concise and straightforward, but it’s complicated, so I go right to the core of the issue.
“Faye & Sons has a strict policy about employees having sex with clients. It’s not allowed.”
His brows perk. “I’ll hire another firm to work on the campaign. You’re fired.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, so I laugh. “You don’t mean that.”
He skips past that to ask me a question. “We fucked months ago, Linny. You can’t get in shit for that, can you?”