Chapter Twenty Three: Emilia
The mental kicks I was giving myself could permanently bruise me. I mean, I told myself not to do this. Not to get with him anymore, but I did. We had sex on my desk. And it was good, as always.
So, good I was screaming. What if a customer had walked in? I am an idiot. He makes me crazy. I have to be professional. I can’t keep doing this…
“Do you want to grab dinner?”
I was fixing myself up, making sure I at least looked like I hadn’t just had sex. I avoided his gaze because those emerald green eyes would make me do anything.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I whispered. I felt his eyes on me, finally I turned to look at him.
His hair was disheveled, a messy mop of brown and blonde. His eyes still flashed with arousal, his full pink lips parted. He was so hard to resist.
“You’ll have sex with me but you won’t have dinner with me?” His brows tightened as he gritted his jaw. Yeah, he’s not happy. But I did not know how else to look after myself. How else to make sure this doesn’t affect my work anymore.
“It isn’t like that.” My voice was quiet, but trembled with uncertainty. I had no idea what it was like. I did not have an idea of anything at this point.
“Really? Then what the hell is it like, Emilia?” His voice rose in the slightest. He was definitely pissed. My cheeks burned with all the attention being on me. I did not know what to say or do because everything got all mixed up. In my head and in my heart.
“I don’t know. I just know that I need to focus on work right now, but you’re…hard to resist.” I felt tears prick at my eyelashes. No. I could not believe I was about to cry. I held back the tears trying to escape, burning the rims of my eyes. And the way he was looking at me, an intensity I could not place.
“Right, it’s my fault then.” With anger, he snatched up his keys and wallet, not giving me another look. “Call me when it has something to do with work.”
I gasped as he left, shutting the door behind him with a slam. I let my tears fall then. From frustration and confusion. And I was so confused. I wanted him. I couldn’t resist him. But I knew I couldn’t be distracted from my work. Hell, I was aroused during a meeting with a client and had to cover it up with a sketchbook. A fucking sketchbook.
I almost lost my head in my meeting with my investor that morning. Getting distracted, thinking of Tristan. Something had to give.
I busied myself with work until I left at sundown. I finally stopped crying, but I was still confused and angry. Sad, too; because I felt like Tristan did not want me anymore. I understood. I’ve strung him along, and he doesn’t need that. Not after what his ex did to him.
***
Once I got home, I called Ivy, knowing she would have something helpful to say.
“Hey, I was just about to call you.” She sounded so happy. I did not want to dampen her mood with my shit.
“Really? I was wondering if you want to come over for dinner.” I was never good at hiding my feelings.
“Sure. But what’s wrong?” She asked me.
“Nothing. Honest. I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up before she could pry. I took a quick shower and got dressed in a soft pair of leggings and a large tee shirt. I officially looked like a relationship just ended, even though it wasn’t really a relationship.
The feelings were real though. I burned for him, and ached. I have dreamed of him every night since that ball. I’m sure I would tonight to. He just drew me in with his charisma, honesty, and good looks of course. He’s been hurt and he deserved real…he deserved something good. I definitely wasn’t giving that to him.
Ivy knocked rapidly, pulling me from my cloud of thoughts.
I opened up and she was complete with two boxes of pan pizza. She can read my mind, it’s proven.
“Hey, how was your day?” I reigned my best smile but she was still eyeing me.
“Great… yours?”
I shrugged.
“I met with the bride and groom, from that wedding. They liked my plans.”
“Oh, that’s good! When is the wedding?”