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“I drive. I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”
He scratches the side of his head and nods, his eyes inviting me into whatever attractive spell he’s got going on.
“Tomorrow I need you to accompany me to a lunch event. Dress appropriately.”
I walk in front of him—too close—the closest we’ve ever been.
“Sure, sure. Anything wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Curiosity gets the best of me. His eyes travel to my neck before landing on my chest, then my black pants. I’m swallowing hard, waiting for him to answer me—for him to look at me.
Anything will do.
Anything except me liking the fact that my boss is checking me out.
“Absolutely nothing,” he whispers seductively, and it’s all I can do to head out the door before I do something stupid, something I’ll regret.
I need to stop.
To put an end to this stupid crush that’s developing. I need to touch myself more, to keep myself in check. Harv clearly won’t be the one to do it.
As soon as I’m walking into the underground parking lot, the cold air is sharp enough to shake me from my fantasies.
So you think your boss is hot?
The first step is admitting it. That’s what Gia always says. I’m halfway through my Dreygon detox already. Next, I’ll be able to move forward despite my attraction to him. He could be tied down to a long-term girlfriend, fiancée, or wife for all I know. Though I didn’t notice any rings when I sneaked a peek.
I get home late in the evening, so after eating and showering, I check on Harvey in his bedroom. Gone are the apartment days where I used to come home and greet him right away. It became clear as time went on after the accident that he hadn’t missed me, so I’d taken to dealing with my personal needs first.
He barely acknowledges me, my mouth dying to ask whom he’s texting as I catch him smiling on his phone. We talk briefly, about his and my day, before silence takes over.
So I let him be and head to my room.
Despite wanting to know more.
Wanting to know why he’s smiling but not with me.
I prepare my outfit for the next day, a gray skirt with a white blouse and my sister’s heels. I read a few chapters before shutting off my lamp and calling it a night.
Except tonight, Harvey’s not part of my dreams. Not even close.
All I see is Damon.
Damon Dreygon.
The next day, I’m squirming in the passenger seat of Damon’s Tesla, feeling rather exposed in the gray pencil skirt. But more than that, all I can do is look out the windows, watching the surrounding traffic.
Because it’s silent. Dead silent.
I should be used to it by now with Harvey. For some reason, today it’s leaving me restless. My eyes shoot to Damon’s hand holding the steering wheel while his other lays atop the center console—so damn close to me.
I’m almost tempted to put on some music but a part of me doesn’t want him to think I’m affected by him, by this silence.
Silence is me.
I own silence.
“Plans this weekend?” I ask, earning a twitch of his lip, as if he was playing some sick game and won.
