Page 29 of The Most Perfect Wrong

Before I can respond, I hear footsteps approaching. I glance over my shoulder just as one of our coworkers walks by, giving us a polite nod before heading into the office kitchen.

I turn back to Ryan, who’s watching me intently. “Saved by the bell,” he murmurs.

I shake my head, forcing a smile as I turn back to my computer. “You wish.”

* * * * * ?* * * * *

I don’t get home until close to eight, and I’m exhausted. I don’t know how Brad does this every day. My brain is fried. All I want to do is veg out in front of the TV. It might be aSex and the Citykind of night. I step off the elevator onto the sixteenth floor andwalk down the long hallway to our apartment. When I push the door open, I’m hit with the smell of dinner cooking. My mouth waters at the sight of Brad standing shirtless over the stove, Post Malone blasting in the background.

He must not have heard me come in because he doesn’t turn around. I texted him earlier to let him know I’d be working late, and he said he would be too. I walk over and wrap my arms around him. “Hi,” I say softly. “I thought you were working late too.”

“I was… but I managed to sneak away early, to surprise you, make you dinner.” He turns to greet me with a proper hug and kiss.

I’m stunned. “Thank you, babe. This is so nice… I’m starving. I’m exhausted too—I don’t know how you work these hours every day.”

“Well, coming home to you makes it a little easier.” He tilts my chin up and kisses me, longer this time.

Brad rarely does this—leave work early—and to cook for me? It’s incredibly thoughtful—but also a little out of character. I want my fiancé to be this guy—thoughtful and sweet because he loves me. But the nagging feeling inside me won’t go away—that quiet voice in the back of my mind that whispers Casey might be right. That he does this when he needs to make up for something. Maybe this is the new him, though. He’s been more considerate since I got this new job.

I wrap my arms tighter around him and sigh.

Chapter 10

RYAN

December

I stare at my screen, my brain’s fried. It’s Friday night, and Cooper and I are at it again. It’s already seven, and I can feel myself tapping out. We’ve got so much to catch up on. I’ve been gone all week, traveling for work. The nice thing about traveling is that usually it’s to Phoenix, where headquarters are, so it’s a free ticket home to see my family and friends. I left for Arizona Tuesday morning and got back late last night. I managed to squeeze in a night with some friends and stopped in to see my parents while I was there.

Cooper and I have been working on this project for almost three weeks now. In a week and a half, we head to Austin, Texas—where we decided to base the new expansion. Austin’s a big tech hub, and the numbers made sense. We’ll be there for three days, trying to get a feel for the place and hopefully find something that fits. Then, we’ll go back in January to finalize everything.

Things have been pretty good with Cooper. Surprisingly good, actually—almost fun. There’ve been moments of flirtation, which confuse me, considering she’s engaged. I know I’m partly to blame for it; I initiated it. And I feel a little bad about it, but it’s also innocent… mostly.

It’s been fun getting to know her beyond the initial awkwardness. She’s smart, quick-witted, and has a sense ofhumor that matches mine in the best way. She’s proven to be a valuable asset—not just to this expansion, but to Nexlytic as a whole. Her ideas are sharp, and her drive is impressive. If I’m being honest, I like her more than I probably should.

I still don’t know how I feel about the wholesleeping with me while she was broken up for a weekthing. It bothers me, but hey, I got to sleep with Cooper Bradley, so no real complaints here. The problem is, every time I look at her, I wish it would happen again. I think about it too much—at work, at home, everywhere. It’s becoming a distraction. And if she wasn’t engaged, maybe I’d stand a chance.

I close my laptop, too distracted to think. “Want to take a break? Grab a drink at Viv’s upstairs?” I ask.

She pauses. “Is that allowed?”

“Sure it is. Honestly, almost anything’s allowed as long as we get our work done. I wouldn’t recommend drinking before three on a workday, but hey, to each their own. Come on, I need a break. We can bring our work with us.”

We gather our things and head to the elevator, riding up to the tenth floor. It’s not crowded yet, since it’s still early. I assume most of the people here this early work in the building. It usually picks up around ten. Soft bench-style seating lines the far end wall, with round tables spaced between and lounge chairs and stools on the opposite side. We grab a table in the corner, Cooper taking the booth side while I sit across from her in a chair.

The cocktail waitress comes over, and I order a tequila with soda water. Cooper orders a spicy margarita. “Is that all you drink?” I ask, remembering that’s what she was drinking in Newport.

“No,” she says with a smile. “I usually drink spiked seltzers or darker beer, but at a cocktail lounge, you order a cocktail. And spicy margs are my favorite.”

“Is Brad working late tonight?” I ask. I recently found out her fiancé is Brad, though I haven’t met him yet. She says he works nearby, and I wonder why he never swings by to say hi, or meet her for lunch. That’s what I’d do if I had a fiancée working close by.

“No. He’s been in New York all week for work. He comes home early tomorrow morning.”

“How often does he travel for work?”

“It varies, but usually three to four times a month, depending on the deal and where it is. Most of the time, it’s just short trips—two or three days. But this week, he was trying to finalize a merger and close another big deal, so he extended his trip.”

She opens her laptop to start working, and I know I should do the same, but I just need a break. I can’t help but watch her as she focuses in, pursing her lips together.God, her lips. She’s got that whole Scarlett Johansson vibe—full lips, flawless skin, striking features, big boobs—she’s curvy.Shit. I can’t be thinking about her body right now—or ever. We’re still at work, and she’s engaged. I’ve got to keep things professional.

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