Page 66 of The Most Perfect Wrong

Ryan:You hate the wind. You think pubic hair is weird. You look phenomenal in a swimsuit…

Ryan:And naked…

Ryan:You love the show Pretty Little Liars. Should I keep going?

Jesus, what am I doing? This is too much. But dammit, she needs to know there are better men out there.

Cooper:Oh

Cooper:My

Cooper:God.

Cooper:Wow.

Cooper:I don’t even know what to say. How do you know all that?

Ryan:I pay attention to the things I’m interested in.

She doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and I’m about to give up and go to sleep.

Cooper:Now that actually turns me on.

I grin, pulse quickening.And I can’t do a damn thing about it.

Ryan:Well then, I’d better say goodnight. See you tomorrow.

I turn my phone on silent, set it on the charger, and roll over to sleep.

Chapter 21

COOPER

Ryan’s not in his office, and I can’t find him anywhere. He led our morning meeting, but after that, he just disappeared. I knock on Genevieve’s office door, and she gestures for me to come in. I lean in, keeping my tone casual. “Hey, do you know where Ryan is?”

She shakes her head. “He’s not here. Took the afternoon off. We’re both scheduled to conference into a meeting with the executive team at four. I assume he’ll be back by then.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say, nodding.

She raises an eyebrow. “Anything I can help you with?”

“No. I needed to talk to him about the expansion.” It’s true, but it’s hardly urgent. I don’t really have a reason to be looking for him—other than the fact that I want to see him. I want to hear his voice, see his smile. After his text last night, I can’t stop thinking about him. Spending the entire weekend at home with Brad left me feeling claustrophobic. I need a reason to stay late tonight, to work, to not be at my house—to be around Ryan.

Back in the lounge, I sprawl across the sofa, pulling out my phone.

Cooper:Hey VP, where are you? Was hoping we could discuss our next steps with the new property in Austin tonight.

I place my phone face-up next to me, laptop open, and force myself to work. But I’m glancing at my phone every few minutes, driving myself crazy, waiting for a response. Nothing.

Is he mad at me? Did I come off too strong last night?Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that last text—the one about his text turning me on. But my God, that shook me in the best way.

Two hours later, he still hasn’t texted back. I’m going to go insane. I force myself to take a lunch break.

By the time I get back, he still hasn’t responded, and my mind is spiraling into ridiculous scenarios. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him in the pool. Or maybe I should have kissed him again in the hallway. What if he got back together with his wife? Shit. He’s probably with her right now. I can’t even be upset about that—if anything, I feel bad for both of them. Meanwhile, I’m stuck in hell at home—arguing with Brad, faking orgasms, and clinging to the one thing we have left: sex. But even that’s taken a turn for the worse.

Jesus, I’m a mess.

The rest of the day flies by, and by five, I’m walking toward Ryan’s office again, butterflies in my stomach. I know this feeling all too well—that buildup before something good… or bad happens. I round the corner and practically bump right into him.

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