Page 27 of Business Casual
“She deserves it. Deserves more than that, but this is a good start.”
“And New York is okay with you being here?”
“My work is fine with it.” He closes the space between us again, and I shuffle backward until a pine tree branch pokes at the space between my shoulder blades. “I’m more interested in what you have to say about it.”
“I’m fine with it.” I clutch my cupcake to my chest. “Why wouldn’t I be fine with it?”
“Because,” he says, his hand reaching so he can toy with the zipper of my jacket. He tugs it up and then down. Up again. “Now you can’t avoid me like you were planning to.”
“I wasn’t planning on avoiding you.” I lie through my teeth.
“Mm-hmm. That’s why you sprinted from the bakehouse as soon as you saw me.”
“I didn’t sprint.”
I walked at a very brisk pace. There’s a difference.
He hums, amused. “Well. Get used to looking at this pretty face, Nova. I’ve got a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of one another.”
?I have thirty-fouremails and sixty-two text messages waiting for me when I finally check my notifications. Charlie’s smiling face stares up at me from my screen, and I have to swipe my thumb along his jaw to unlock the device.
It feels like a personal attack every time.
I prop my feet up on the corner of my desk in the back of the empty tattoo studio and look through my messages. Most of them are from my family the night of the wedding, trying to figure where I wandered off to. Some are automated messages from a few job boards I have listings on. And twenty-seven are from Charlie, starting around the same time I found Nessa in the trees.
No shirtless pictures though.
Unfortunately.
CHARLIE:Nova, come back.
CHARLIE:Don’t use this as an excuse to never talk to me again. I can be persistent. You know that.
I snort a laugh and scroll some more.
A note that he found my phone in the field. A stupid joke about Montgomery’s dancing at the reception. A hello in the morning when he woke up the next day and a grainy, blurry photo of a coffee cup on his kitchen counter. A description of the bagel he had for breakfast. Another photo of two different kinds of flannels laid out on top of his bed.
CHARLIE:I know I have your phone and you won’t see these until later, but which one do you think brings out my eyes?
All the reasons I wanted to take him home in the first place come roaring back. He’s funny. He doesn’t take himself too seriously. He makes me feel wanted and he…he’s hot as hell. Pressed chinos notwithstanding.
I could set the terms and he would respect them. I know he would. It would be convenient, certainly. Especially since he’s staying in town. I could use the outlet.
And if the attraction spinning between us in a thick syrupy haze is any indication, it would be good. Better than good. Maybe with Charlie out of my system, I’ll be able to focus on the things I should be focused on.
All I need to do is ask him again.
CHARLIE:Did I tell you how beautiful you looked in that silver dress? I can’t remember.
CHARLIE:Sometimes I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I bite my bottom lip and tap my thumbnail against the edge of my phone case.
CHARLIE:Also, one hundo percent down for a night of hot, passionate sex. For the record.
CHARLIE:With you. If that wasn’t clear.
CHARLIE:Ready when you are, Nova girl.
