I look up to find the conference room's glass walls perfectly showcase the Seattle skyline—and apparently, my dumb spur-of-the-moment decision making.
LUKE: Nice moves for an old man
LUKE: Though you might want to delete the security footage
LUKE: Just saying
CALLUM: I know an excellent chiropractor
CALLUM: For when that dancing catches up with you
CALLUM: Also, the doves send their regards
Wonderful.
Because that's exactly what I need right now. More complications. More witnesses to the recent fumbling and bumbling of my life.
More reasons to remember why I don't do this. Why I can't do this.
My phone lights up one more time:
ARIANA: Your tie was crooked.
ARIANA: During the dancing.
ARIANA: That's why I was looking at your mouth.
ARIANA: I mean, not your mouth specifically.
ARIANA: Just the general... tie area.
ARIANA: Yup, definitely going to stop texting now
I feel myself smile.
I take a minute, letting myself enjoy the moment then I clear my throat.
Ariana Bristol is a walking, talking reminder of why I keep my life in check. Why I don’t make impulsive decisions. Why I don’t kiss women in glass-walled conference rooms like some rookie who doesn’t understand what happens when you mix business with pleasure.
I scrub a hand over my face, exhaling hard.
Back to helping with Alex’s wedding. Back to work that’s gotten me this far.
11
THE SUPPORT SYSTEM SITUATION
ARIANA
The morning after an accidental office make-out session is a special kind of torture.
Especially when said make-out session was against a conference table with your boss. Who also happens to be devastatingly attractive, annoyingly smug, and far too good with his hands.
I groan, dropping my head onto my desk. This is bad. So bad.
Every time I close my eyes, I can still feel the heat of Connor’s mouth on mine, the way his hands had gripped my waist like he couldn’t stand an inch of space between us. My whole body still hums with the memory, my pulse quickening at the mere thought of it.
Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about this.