AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He nods.
I take a page from Julian's book. "What if you cook her that?"
"Cook her Ramen?" He deadpans as if my suggestion is worse than fast food.
"There are tons of Ramen recipes online; some are pretty amazing. Turn it into a fun cooking date. You can spice up the noodles and make it something special. Cooking together helps break the tension and lighten the mood.”
He leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "That's actually a pretty good idea. I've never been great at striking up conversations with girls."
He claps his hands with newfound determination. "You know what? I'm going for it. But first, I need to tackle my apartment's disaster zone. You know, my roommates could give pigs a run for their money in the mess-making department," he says, his face scrunching up in distaste.
I shrug, unable to suppress a smile. "Can't help you there. My roommate was my best friend, so roommate horror stories are foreign to me. But hey, I have faith in your problem-solving skills; from what I’ve heard, you do a great job here."
He offers a grateful smile. "Thanks for the advice. It's nice talking to you. Fair warning, though: I might start seeking your wisdom more often. Just promise it won't impact my grade?"
I can't help but chuckle. "Don't worry, personal advice is off the clock."
Levi reaches for another pastry as he asks, "So, did you have a good weekend?"
I had the best date ever.
"It was good. I did some online shopping and stayed in," I reply, glancing down the hall to my office. "I better get in there."
A pumpkin-spiced latte awaits at my desk, its warm, spicy scent a familiar comfort. Next to it, a box of assorted pastries tempts with its sweet aromas. I pick up my latte, the cup warming my hands, and gently knock on Julian's door.
“Poppy?” He shouts back, his voice muffled.
“It’s me.” I touch the handle, feeling its cool metal under my fingers.
“Come in.”
I open the door and see he's just finishing getting dressed. He had his PT session this morning and then came back to the office to shower and get dressed. He's wearing gray suit pants and a white shirt and is just finishing tying a silver tie. His aftershave fills the office air, a rich blend of sandalwood and citrus that's unmistakably him.
“Good Morning,” he grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that belies his casual greeting.
“Julian,” I hiss as I close the office door, my heart racing a beat faster at the implication in his gaze.
“What? I just said good morning.” He winks and straightens his tie, then runs his hand through his dark hair, which falls perfectly back into place. He leans back on his desk with one leg crossed over the other, his gaze roaming over me, taking me in.
“It’s what your eyes said that worries me.” Glancing over my shoulder at the closed door, a pang of guilt washes over me. If only I could be as honest as Levi was, but I can’t...yet.
“Did you have a good Sunday?” He asks, his voice low and curious.
“Yes. Did you?” I reply as I sip my coffee, its rich flavor mingling with the hint of pumpkin spice. “Thank you.” I raise the cup, my hands wrapping around its warmth.
“I had a terrible Sunday.”
I pause mid-sip, “Why?”
“Because I didn't get to see you.” He pushes off from the desk, rounding it to sit; his movements are fluid and purposeful. “Shall we go over my schedule?”
As my neighbor, he’s sexy, but this version of Julian as the CEO, well, he's so attractive that he’s deadly; I'm talking cardiac-inducing problems. No man should be able to wear a suit as good as Julian does. It’s just not fair to the rest of society.
I nod and join him at the chair across from his desk, the leather cool against my skin. “You have a 10:00 with Arthur Murray from accounting to go over fourth quarter orders, an 11:00 with—”
“I’m stuck with accounting for an hour?” He groans, a playful frustration in his tone. “Continue.”
“11:00 till 1:30, you meet with Theo on product development. 2:00, you have a call with Colleen Mulligan from legal,” I grab my phone to recall the name, scrolling through the calendar with a flick of my finger. “It’s with...”
