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Because the man I’m reading about looks like me, sounds like me if I was reformed, upstanding, responsible. I take things seriously. I’ve gone from a bad boy to a man women swoon over because he’s in love.
I don’t think the in love part is from her, that’s the interpretation from the photos of me and Elliot. Of how I look at her. Of what can only be the carefully orchestrated exchanges overheard, even when we argued. We look like a real couple.
And of course Elliot is everything they say she is. Smart, together, career woman, steady, scandal free.
Oh, they miss the nuances that really make Elliot special. Her wicked streak, her humor, her sharp tongue. And they don’t know how she kisses, either. Obviously.
I drag in a breath.
There’s one more event that’s super important to go to tomorrow night, but that’s not why I leave work at the company early. That’s not why I hightail it across town to SoHo and breeze past Lena and into Elliot’s gorgeous office.
God, she looks good.
It’s a different kind of suit she has on, and her hair is still pinned back, but there’s something so understated and hot about it all I’m weak at the knees, and my cock stirs.
She looks up. “Can I call you back?” she asks whoever’s on her phone over her Bluetooth. Then she hits end on her phone, pulls the earpiece out, and says, “is something wrong? Shouldn’t you be at Sinclair’s, dazzling them?”
“I have.” I wave a hand in the air like it isn’t important I reach my goals, and for a moment that’s true. “You are a master at what you do.”
“Excuse me?”
“I just read everything about me online and I’m impressed.”
She frowns, even though her mouth quirks. “You just did a very Ryder thing by leaving work to come here to tell me the job I’ve been doing to make you not look like the Ryder who walked out of the important CEO job is brilliant?”
“Yes.”
Elliot laughs. “Ryder. You’re hopeless.”
I don’t laugh. I don’t laugh at all. “Elliot.”
The laughter dies. “What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck; a pimpled teen gathering the strength to ask the school beauty queen out. “I…there’s only a few days left.”
“I know that.”
“And I just, well, you and me. I think there’s more to it than a passing attraction. More than just being friends. And maybe we should, you know…”
Elliot Perry looks at me and crosses her arms.
“No.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elliot
Idon’t know who’s more flabbergasted at that. Me or him.
His nervous demeanor almost got me, it did, and I want the offer than he almost put into words.
But if he can’t say it…
I’m worth more than that half-assed offer of a maybe something more. Whatever that means.
I might not be the prettiest, and he might be the hottest man ever, but if he can’t, then I won’t.
It’s that devastating. That simple. That complicated.
