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“And you’re nineteen. You should be going to college parties and dancing with boys.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Yeah, I danced with all the boys.”
I laugh and nudge him with my elbow. “You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t go to college.” He brushes lint off his shorts. “Couldn’t afford it.”
“Oh.” I should just insert my foot in my mouth any time I feel the urge to ask him anything. “Well, I’d rather be here. There’s so much organizing I can do.”
His eyes flick to my lips for a moment so brief, I wonder if I imagined it. “Is that why you’re here? To organize?”
“That … and I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“Roger said something when I started working here. He said you’d give someone the shirt off your back if he needed it.”
TJ shrugs it off and averts his eyes to his hands as he folds them in his lap. As confident-bordering-arrogant as he can be, there’s another side to him. Modest. Unaware of his greatness. I’m fascinated by this hidden layer.
“I’ve only known you for a short time, but I get the feeling that people don’t do much for you in return.” I laugh, trying to keep it light. “Even Superman needs help sometimes.”
TJ’s eyes close and when they open again, they’re blue flames blazing into mine. They hold me captive, and all I can do is try to remember how to breathe. The memory of his lips on mine, his hands all over my body—the memory I work so hard to push from my mind whenever I’m around him—is now all I see.
Heat spreads over my skin like it’s following a trail of gasoline leading straight between my thighs. I shift in my seat, trying to suppress the ache. The itch I shouldn’t scratch.
When TJ’s gaze falls to my lips again, my breath hitches. He’s going to kiss me.
And I’m going to let him.
He leans in and stops a centimeter from my face. I’m ready to close the gap when he says, “You should probably go.”
“Oh, right.” I stand so fast my chair wobbles behind me.
“Carla, wait.”
“I’m sorry. Good night.” I’m out the door and in my car in the matter of seconds.
I don’t allow myself to dissect what just happened—what I wanted to happen. TJ is my boss and I can’t almost-kiss my boss. It won’t happen again. And that’s the end of that. My ego can’t take anything more.
When I arrive at my apartment, I drag my legs up the stairs. As soon as I turn the key in the door, the smell hits me.
Something’s burning.
I rush into the kitchen to find Mallory waving a towel around like a helicopter while smoke billows out of the oven.
Her eyes go wide when she sees me. “Okay, I know this looks bad. But in my defense, I was left unsupervised.”
I roll my lips together to keep from laughing. “What are you cooking?”
“I was trying to make my mom’s lasagna. I think I left it in for too long.”
“You think?” I grab an oven mitt and take the baking dish out of the oven. Tossing it into the sink, I run the water on top of it.
“We’re going to starve,” she whines.
“No, we won’t.”
