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CHARLIE
Downstairs we steppedout into the cool evening air. San Diego wasn’t hot, but it was no Denver in December either. The rest of our dinner had gone smoothly—more than smoothly. In fact, it had been amazing. After Nathan had opened up about his family, we continued to talk about anything and everything. He asked me questions about my family and what my childhood was like. How had I ended up in tech. Had I always wanted to be a business owner. I felt as if I could have talked to him all night if the restaurant hadn’t started clearing out.
Now the night was over, and the only thing left to do was head back to the hotel. Disappointment took hold of me. I wished I could press replay and spend hours talking to him again. I wanted to maintain this newfound depth in our connection. The last thing I wanted was to return to our boss-employee dynamic where he hardly acknowledged my existence.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said when I realized we were both just standing there in silence.
“You can thank the company.”
“Well, you picked it and everything so…” my voice trailed off. He stared at me so intently it felt like my body would combust on the spot.
“Let’s head back to the hotel,” he said. “It’s only a few blocks.”
“Sure,” I said, following his lead and stuffing my hands into my thin jacket.
As our footsteps fell into sync, I stole a glance at Nathan only to find him looking down at me. I jerked my gaze away as if I had been caught doing something salacious.
“What?” he asked.
“What?” I said back.
“You looked at me.”
“You were looking at me too.”
We stopped at a light as cars zoomed by us.
“I was looking,” he admitted.
“Why?” I asked, turning slightly to face him.
He shrugged. “Because it’s too hard not to.”
My eyes widened as he took a step closer.
“Charlie…” He looked down, lines creased between his eyebrows. He cursed under his breath.
“Y-yes?” My voice cracked.
“I’ve been thinking about you.”
My heart fluttered at his declaration. Was my crush not as one-sided as I had thought?
“You have?” I asked, hating the hopefulness dripping from my voice.
“You have no idea.” He took another step closer and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Every time I see you in the office, I think of that night—of your lips brushing mine.”
I covered my face with my hands and groaned. “Oh my god, no. Please don’t think about that ever again. I’m still mortified.”
I felt his strong hands envelop mine as he gripped them firmly and lowered them. His face hovered only inches from mine now.
“Don’t be mortified,” he said. “I’ve relived that night a hundred times in my mind. Every rendition doesn’t involve you rushing away.”
“They don’t?” I breathed.
“No, they all involve me grabbing you and pulling you to me, and kissing you like you deserve to be kissed.”
I wet my lips and grabbed onto his elbows to steady myself.
