Page 50 of Never To Be Mine

“Shit,” I whispered to the empty room. “Shit, shit, shit.”

This was bad. This was really, really bad.

I pushed off the door and started pacing. My lips still tingled. I could still taste him.

What was I supposed to do now? Pretend it hadn’t happened? Acknowledge it? Apologize?

Fuck that. I wasn’t sorry.

That was the problem. I didn’t regret it. Not even a little bit.

God, I wanted to do it again.

16

HOLLIS

Ireached for the button to open the elevator doors, then stopped myself.

“Fuck,” I muttered, finally lowering my hand.

The elevator was moving again, carrying me up to my floor. Each passing number felt like a countdown to my own stupidity becoming real.

What the hell had I been thinking?

I hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. I’d been feeling.

Feeling the spike of jealousy when she’d looked at Sebastian like he hung the moon. Feeling something I didn’t want to think about after enjoying a meal with her that hadn’t felt like a war. It was the pull that had been building since the moment I’d met her, even when she called my product gross.

The doors opened on my floor and I walked out on autopilot, my mind still in that elevator with her.

I’d kissed Juno Young. And she’d kissed me back.

For about thirty glorious seconds before reality had crashed in and she’d looked at me like I’d just set her entire world on fire.

Inside my hotel room, I tossed my suit jacket onto the chair and unbuttoned my shirt a few more buttons. The room felt too small suddenly. Too hot.

I went into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face.

“You’re an idiot,” I told my reflection. “A complete fucking idiot.”

We’d been making progress. She’d actually complimented me after the meeting. Had opened up during lunch. She laughed at my jokes instead of rolling her eyes. For the first time since I’d met her, I’d felt like maybe she had started to see me as something other than a trust fund baby playing entrepreneur.

And then I’d gone and kissed her. In an elevator. Like some kind of horny teenager who couldn’t control himself.

All I could think about was the look on her face when those elevator doors had opened.

Shock. Confusion. Definitely not happiness.

I had fucked up. I’d told myself not to fuck this thing up and I’d gone and done it.

I needed her approval for any future partnerships. Her father had made that crystal clear. She was the one vetting me, deciding whether B Well was a good fit for Young at Heart. And I’d just compromised everything by sticking my tongue in her mouth.

Smooth, Hollis. Real smooth.

I grabbed my phone and stared at it, debating whether to text her. And say what, exactly? Sorry I kissed you?

I wasn’t sorry. Not really. I was only sorry we had to work together, meaning romantic entanglements with her were a bad idea. I tossed the phone onto the bed and resumed pacing.