Page 36 of The Hard Launch

“This seems like a thing we should talk about,” he murmurs before he kisses me.

“We do a lot of talking,” I say, kissing him back, my fingers skimming his face, his neck, his chest while they still have the opportunity. Because maybe this was just something we needed to get out of our systems, and now Jude will say he better get going and tomorrow will be a little awkward but hey, that’s just another day for us.

Instead, he laces his fingers in mine and is looking at me like I’m some sort of miracle, which would freak me out more if I wasn’t looking at him the same way.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JUDE

My internal alarm goes off at five o’clock. I wake up next to Lacey and my first thought is, what have I done?

And then I look at her, sleeping in the dim light with her lips parted and her hair spilled all over her pillow. I see the curve of her hip, the small of her back, and I find myself thinking quite literally about what I’ve done. And how I’d very much like to do more of it. Except she’s asleep and it’s time for me to start my workday.

I try to think if Lacey’s ever said anything about what time she wakes up, because what I can’t do is sit here quietly until seven a.m. while she sleeps adorably and I’m without my laptop, and my phone is who knows where and probably dead. I consider my alternatives. I could sneak out and leave a note, or I could wake her to tell her I’m going. I just know that I can’t wake her up accidentally while I’m sneaking out but before I leave the note, because I’ll just look like a creep who’s trying to disappear on her. But what would I even say in the note?

“Did you know your intrusive thoughts are loud enough to wake other people?” Lacey asks me sleepily. While I’m wondering how I’m supposed to navigate all the lines we crossed last night—a good morning kiss? a fist bump?—she stretches and yawns, then burrows in close to me.

“Don’t worry,” she says, sounding very cozy. “You can go do your morning cold plunge protein shake CEO thing. I won’t be offended.”

I sit up a little and lean back against her headboard while I assure her that I do both of those things in the evening. My mornings are for work. And as much as I want to sink back into Lacey’s bed with her, my company’s still at risk and I probably have six requests from Edmund after last night’s dinner. I sling my legs over the side of her bed and locate my boxer briefs. Lacey snaps a light on to help me.

“What are you smiling at?” she asks as I pull them on, noticing her small kitchen at the other end of the room.

“Your toaster,” I say.

“Weirdo.”

She watches me intently as pick up my rumpled clothes from her floor.

“What?” I ask her.

“I’m just confused about this whole situation you have going here,” she says. “This isn’t the body of a man who sits at a desk all day.”

“I have a standing desk,” I remind her. She throws a pillow at me.

I put my pants on and go sit next to her while I button my shirt.

“It’s soccer,” I say. “I used to play a lot more than I do now. But it’s the one thing I make time for outside of work.”

“That would be cute if it wasn’t kind of sad,” she says. “Or if I could think of a thing I make time for outside of work.”

I brush the hair out her eyes.

“You don’t know how I started Lettercat?” I ask her. “Maybe only Trev and Ella do. I joined a league when I first moved here, and it was my job to send out the team newsletter. All the options sucked, so I built my own.”

“You’re not kidding,” she says.

“Nope. My team was the Wildcats.”

“And here I thought you were a businessman and cat lover.”

I kiss her on the forehead and say goodbye. I turn the light off.

“See you in approximately three hours!” she calls from her bed as I open the door to go.

“How about you make it more like two and a half?” I ask.

As expected, Edmund has a lot of feedback for me. Mostly he introduces me to something called a nine-box grid, and then tells me I need to rate each of the core team’s performance and potential using the grid. We’ll review it next week.