Page 23 of Something like Desire

I blink at him incredulously and hold back a smile. “Excuse me, I’m taken. That’s a weird jump.”

Andy rests his hand, adorned with chunky rings and gold bracelets, on my forearm. “Look at me, in my eyes,” he instructs firmly. “We’ve worked together for seven years, and I know you. You’re acting differently today and when we started talking about this Zach guy—Zach is a very hot name by the way—you started getting red and sweating a little and just overall acting weird. Something’s up with you and I think you should admit it.”

He’s right. And after what he just said, now my face is on fire too. I pull at the neckline of my dress to fan myself out. “You know as well as I do that this place is hot as hell. Of course I’m sweating. When am I not sweating?”

Andy’s staring into my eyes, unblinking. “Lexi,” he says sternly.

“I love Jayden,” I say in as steady a voice as possible. “And only Jayden. Forever.”

“Maybe you love him the way people love sweet potato fries, or puppies, but I don’t think youlove him, love him. Sorry, sweetie.”

I shake my head firmly. “That’s not true.”

Andy raises an eyebrow and regards me silently for a few moments. “Okay. If you say so. I’ll be merciful and stop asking about this Zach guy because you’re obviously getting very hot and flustered and I’m worried you might pass out or something. But first, you have to tell me the whole resort story from the minute you checked in.”

I gesture at the to-do list that’s pinned to my bulletin board. Thevery longto-do list without any checkmarks in the boxes. “What about work?”

Andy waves a hand dismissively. “It can wait. How often does something as exciting as this happen to one of us? It’s like a special occasion. We should order one of those lemon cakes with the cream cheese frosting from Marvin’s or something. Make it a real celebration.”

I spend the next hour telling Andy every detail except the ones that involve the chemistry between me and Zach, but Andy—even though he’s supposedly trying to be good—knows the right questions to ask to get the information he craves.

He swipes back his swoop of blonde bangs and stares at me with his mouth set in a serious line. “So, just so I can picture the view you had when you two were waiting to see their reaction to the note, where were you hiding exactly?”

“There was a wall around the corner from the door, and we hid behind it and peeked out. It was perfect.”

“So, when you were standing there, how were you standing? Can you demonstrate it to me, maybe?” Andy asks, his facial expression focused like he’s doing critical research instead of just trying to get the tea. “I’m you,” he says, wiggling his hips as he walks to the cubicle wall and presses up against it. “I’m peeking at Mami, see.” He throws a look over his shoulder, the kind you’d see in an Instagram post where the angle’s all about showing off the butt. “So, Zach, where are you?”

Unbelievable. “Come on,” I protest. “You promised to stop giving me a hard time.” I fan myself and give him an anguished look. “I might faint, remember?”

“I’m a visual person. This helps me understand the story. Where were you, Zach?” Andy repeats, this time in a squawky, high-pitched voice that definitely doesn’t sound like mine and is way too annoying to ignore for very long. He’s not going to quit. Might as well appease him.

I reluctantly get up and stand behind him, my body nearly resting against his, with my hand on the cubicle wall to steady myself as I arch my body to peek out as well. I swear, if anyone from management comes down to check why our inboxes are overflowing, we’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.

“That close?” Andy’s voice is muffled by the wall he has his face pressed up against.

“Yes,” I say, so close to him that I’m sure he feels my breath against his neck—can possibly even smell the aroma of terrible office coffee.

“Oh, Lexi. Honestly, if I wasn’t gay, this whole thing would really turn me on. Two people, spying together, at a beach resort, getting this close.”

“You’re too much,” I laugh and head back to my chair.

Andy sits down, closes his eyes dreamily, and spins his wheeled chair in a slow circle. “Sounds likequitea weekend.”

“Yep.” I fold my hands in my lap and let out a little sigh. Commercial break is over—well, if commercial breaks were an hour long. Time to get to work. Or maybe just one more minute. Perhaps it’s time to get some advice after all. Andy’s a smart guy. I value his opinion. “So, what you were saying before, that whole atmosphere at the hotel... that would be enough to confuse a person, right? Make them kind of get wrapped up in the excitement of hiding and completing missions?”

“Maybe.” Andy leans back in his chair, both hands behind his head, eyes twinkling.

I hold up a hand like a stop sign. “Please don’t start with that again. I need your opinion without the teasing this time.”

Andy’s lips stretch into a slow smile. “It would be easy to get wrapped up in something like that and to feel things if you’re in a setting like that, doing things like that. Sure, it would.”

I nod. “Okay, thank you. I should... uh... probably get to work before someone busts us for doing nothing all morning.”

Andy starts wheeling himself back to his own cubicle. “That’s pretty cool that he’s also noticed that poster you’re obsessed with.”

“Sorry. Can’t chat about it anymore right now. I’m just starting a phone consultation,” I say, my back to him, but there’s a smile on my face. I power on my computer and as it’s initializing, I slide open the top drawer of my desk and take out my notebook and purple pen.

I open the first page of the book and press down on the spine until it lies flat. I lift the pen, my hand poised over the paper, glancing over my shoulder for a minute at the bus stop poster. Before I realize it, I’m writing, flowery cursive spilling onto the page, the words stringing together naturally, actually sounding good in sentences.