Page 22 of Unlocking my Boss's Heart

My jaw dropped. Did he really just compare Maddison’s home to a granny’s?

He chuckled at my shock. “It’s interesting to look at.”

“I'm going to tell my cousin you said that about her design style.”

“So, it’s not your place?”

“It’s Maddison’s. She was kind enough to let me stay with her while I settled in,” I said casually, but beneath the surface, Maddison had been a lifesaver. This cozy apartment had become a sanctuary.

“Are you planning to get your own place soon?” Anton’s question felt loaded, like he was probing for something more.

"I haven’t thought about it," I replied honestly. The idea of living on my own seemed distant, almost foreign. "I love living with Maddison and would stay as long as she’ll have me." And I meant it.

“In other words, you’re not in a hurry to leave,” Anton concluded.

"Nope." I forced a smile, hoping he wouldn’t see the vulnerability behind it. Moving out is another leap into the unknown, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that yet. I took out a slice from the pizza box, eager to shift the conversation. "Would you like some?"

“Thought you would never ask,” he replied, leaning forward.

He took out a large piece of the thin-crust cheese-laden pizza and jumped back when a topping fell off.

I laughed. “I didn’t peg you for a pizza kind of a guy,” I said.

“Why not?” he asked and sat beside me. The couch sank under his weight.

I kept chewing to delay my response. I didn’t want to admit that he seemed the type who would prefer caviar on a golden rice leaf. That might reveal I’d been thinking about him.

“It’s just a little messy; that’s all,” I finally said.

“After a mess, there’s clean up,” he replied simply.

It was surreal—the man who was the dream of thousands, sitting on Maddison’s rundown couch, sharing pizza and a bottle of water with me. And I couldn’t complain about the proximity, our knees almost touching, the warmth from his body suddenly shared with mine.

I let my gaze wander around the room, avoiding the sight of him eating. I knew he could make even that look like a sophisticated activity—heck, he could make cow-tipping look sophisticated.

Long strings of melty cheese hung from his slice as he ate. He managed to get it all in his mouth before it touched his pristine shirt. I handed him a tissue, and he wiped his mouth and fingers.

“Hmm. That’s good,” he said after swallowing.

“Yeah, I've ordered it several times since being here.”

“Before I leave, I’ll order some for myself.”

“I don’t think they do deliveries. They do pick up orders, though.”

“That’s too bad.”

After finishing his slice, he stood and walked to the sink to wash his hands.

“Well, you can order some and save it in your fridge. It should be good for the next couple of dinners after reheating,” I said, realizing I was giving him meal advice.

He’d survived in this city without my help for a long time. When would I learn to keep my thoughts to myself?

The front door clicked open before he could respond.

“Did you miss meeeeee? How’s your weekend free from mean girls and broody, controlling bosses?” Maddison called out before even stepping inside.

My embarrassment was immediate. I gasped as Anton turned to me, his expression unreadable. He turned off the tap and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel.

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