Page 49 of One Last Thing Before You Go

I shrug and gently place a hand on his cheek, pulling him back to face me. “Don’t worry about him.”

We both freeze, suddenly realizing at the same time that I’m touching him—something I haven’t allowed myself to initiate since Saturday night in my loft. I should drop my hand now, but as if it had a mind of its own, it slides to curve around Knox’s jaw, prickly with stubble, down his smooth neck, and stopping at his hard chest. A little rattled by my brazenness, I try to take a step back and move away. But Knox is faster than me, quickly pressing his own hand over mine, taking another step forward.

Both of our breaths come out a little faster, skin heating like wildfire. I feel it spread from my cheeks, down my neck and chest.

“I love your blush.” His voice is so low, it’s as if he’s saying it just to himself. “You look beautiful today.”

“You already said that,” I whisper.

“Did I? I can’t stop staring at you.”

My gaze remains glued to our hands because I cannot—I just cannot—look up into his eyes. I know the second I do I’ll crumble and break my rule.

Instead, I push out an awkward laugh and say, “I noticed.” I wince, wanting to head-slap myself because this is flirting, and we. Aren’t. Supposed. To. Flirt.

I feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckles, moving his hand to thread his fingers through mine.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t very friendly of me, was it?” I sigh.

“Hey,” he gently tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. That mischievous spark is back—the one that makes my insides twist, the heat build low in my stomach. “It was very, very friendly.”

I laugh, and pull my hand free, slapping him gently against his chest. I take a step back and move around the front desk, needing to put distance and an actual piece of furniture between us because, my god, I am two seconds away from throwing myself at this man. “Stop. I don’t want to send you any mixed messages.”

“Sure. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” He sighs and shakes his head knowingly like he can read every single dirty thought running through my head. “Lottie,” he breathes on a sigh, his eyes a mix of humor and longing.

“Stop. Don’t.” I raise a finger at him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing. “C’mon, we like each other!” He throws his hands in the air. “Go out on a date with me, please.”

“We did already.”

He laughs once. “Let me take you on another one, then. Show you I’m actually a good guy.”

“I know you’re a good guy.” That’s the problem. “Still, it’s a no.”

He purses his lips to keep from laughing and nods. “Okay, but I’m not giving up.”

“What happened to our talk this morning? What happened to you accepting this wasn’t ever going to be a thing?”

“Nah, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m gonna make you like me so hard you won’t be able to deny me any longer.”

You really don’t have to try that much.

He pauses. “And I mean that in a non-stalker, non-creepy, and I-won’t-pressure-you way.”

I laugh a little lighter now. “You know what would make me like you?”

“What’s that? Tell me, because I’d pretty much do anything right now.”

“I’d like it if you helped Luke with the demo and leave me alone so I can finish reviewing the info my brother sent us. He’ll be here in a couple of hours to walk us through the whole sale process. So it would be uh-mazing if you would make yourself useful somewhere else.”

He snorts, but doesn’t look offended. “Okay, Pretty Girl.” I roll my eyes at the nickname. “You want me to help with the demo? I’ll help with the demo.” A dimpled grin pops on his face while he walks backward toward the crew, wiggling his eyebrows.

Laughing once, I pick up my things from the counter in one swoop before heading for the back office.

I lose myself in paperwork for the rest of the morning until Salt-N-Pepa’s Push It blares suddenly from my phone, breaking my concentration. My hand flies to pick up, the personalized ringtone already alerting me to who the caller is.

“Hey, bro. I was just⁠—”