Page 45 of Can't Get Enough

“Oh.” Skipper’s hand flies up to cover her heart and other things. She aims a malevolent look at Bolt. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” he hisses. “You’re the one who—”

“I think we should probably go,” I interrupt, pushing away from the railing. “Before you get arrested for indecent exposure.”

He looks shamefaced for about a second before his usual arrogant mask falls into place.

“The driver’s downstairs waiting,” he says stiffly.

“I should go fix this,” Skipper says, clutching her torn blouse a little tighter. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Bell.”

“It was certainly an experience, Skipper,” I say, keeping my tone neutral as much as I want to tease them both. I’ll wait until we’re alone.

She turns to walk away, but pauses and scowls over her shoulder at Bolt. “Don’t call me.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he answers, rolling his eyes.

As soon she’s gone, his rigid mouth yields the tiniest scrap of a smile.

God, spare me Bolt infatuated. I can withstand a lot, but not my near-robotic assistant navigating actual emotions.

“It was good seeing you again,” I tell Hendrix.

I’m surprised at how much I want to stay. I have business, pressing business to take care of in Seattle and we’re flying there as soon as I leave. My mind would typically already be on the next thing, but my brain is snagged on this woman.

And that’s not good.

I’ve been attracted to women many times, but this, the way my mind frazzles and sharpens simultaneously when I’m talking to Hendrix, how aware I am of where she is at all times. It’s annoying to be this tuned in to someone I barely know, to feel this compelled to share so much with someone I’m not even certain yet that I should trust.

“If you have any questions,” Hendrix says, her face carefully smoothed into a flat expression, “you can contact my office. Skipper will make sure we connect.”

I want to disrupt that studied indifference.

“I’ll callyou,” I assert.

Her lips tighten, and that impassivity cracks for a nanosecond beforeshe snaps it back in place. “Of course. I’m available to answer any questions you have about Aspire’s portfolio or any of our founders.”

I don’t know why I’m resisting her efforts to rebuild the wall of politeness that seems to collapse as soon as we start talking. I should want that, too. I want to see what’s behind that wall, though, even if I can’t ever touch what I find.

“The driver, Mav,” Bolt reminds me, staring at his phone. He’s not fooling me. He’s as attuned to my interaction with Hendrix as surely as if his phone were an antenna.

“Right.” I give Hendrix the smile I would offer any business associate. “I’ll be in touch.”

Once in the car, I let out a breath that’s been caged in my ribs for the better part of the night. The effort of not paying attention to Hendrix was more taxing than I’d realized.

“Shit,” Bolt mutters, jerking off his bow tie and unbuttoning his shirt, which has lipstick smeared around the collar like someone was trying to chew his neck.

“Did you really fuck a perfect stranger at a founders’ showcase?” I ask, unable to hide my shocked amusement. To call his behavior tonight out of character would be an understatement.

“There’s nothing perfect about that woman.” He glowers at the parade of lights the skyline offers as we drive through downtown Atlanta, but a smile teases the corner of his mouth. I drop my head back against the car’s seat cushions. At least one of us needs to be reasonable. To my dismay, it’s not him.

And I’m afraid pretty soon, it won’t be me.

CHAPTER 14

HENDRIX

So are you ready to tell me what happened Saturday night with Bolt?”

---