Page 12 of Moto
“About what?” His grip on my upper arm gets tighter.
“David was being his usual self.” It’s pretty much all I have to say, and Dev understands.
“And Reese didn’t like it?” he questions.
“Nope. Not one bit. I think if he could stand up, Dr. Lipschitz would need a doctor.”
“Probably an entire surgical team.” He sighs, dragging me a little closer. My pulse starts to rise. We’re too close, standing too intimately in a work environment, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. “Okay, I’ll talk him. Both of them. We’ll smooth it over.”
“It needs to happen fast. I don’t want a letter of reprimand in my file,” I emphasize the urgency.
“No one wants that. I’ll take care of it. Promise.” His voice is a seductive solace.
I exhale heavily. “Thank you.”
Dev smiles, an adorable dimple popping out in his cheek. “Welcome.” He swipes a loose strand of hair away from my face. “Are you busy this weekend?”
The conversation just took a drastic turn.
“Maybe. Why?”
“Because I thought we could hang out. Get some dinner, go for a ride?”
I step back. “Dev, I don’t think . . .”
“C’mon, Kayla, when are you going to give me a chance? You don’t want to get on the bike? Fine. I have a car.”
I look up at him conflicted. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re coworkers.”
“So what?”
“So, it’s against policy to fraternize.”
“Are you serious? Half the staff is either married or fooling around,” he argues.
“Yes, and you would know that considering you’ve done the most fooling around,” I stress vehemently.
“Is that what you’re afraid of? Being temporary?”
“I’m not afraid of being temporary. I’m afraid of being a flash of lightning. You don’t even seem capable of temporary.”
Dev crowds me. “I guess you’ll never know what I’m capable of if you don’t give me a chance.” His tone is as suggestive as his brother’s. His eyes burning with preeminence as they bore into mine.
I peer back at him, but I feel my resolve wavering. What would it be like to have him look at me like that behind closed doors? My pulse races from just the secret question alone.
“Can we please just deal with one sticky situation before we take on another one?”
Dev’s expression perks up. “Are you telling me you’re not opposed to getting sticky?”
“I’m telling you I’m opposed to getting fired and being someone’s cheap date.” I sidestep, answering honestly, because no, quite frankly, I’m not afraid to get sticky.
“Noted. We’ll continue this conversation later.” He pulls out his phone and reads a message. “I’m needed.” He winks and then walks off.
I fall against the wall, sapped. Did I just agree to get sticky with Devlin Dane?
6
Dev
