Page 4 of Lovesick

He leaned in closer, his thumb pushing even deeper into my mouth. “You will stop ignoring me from now on or I will make this place hell for you.”

My heart betrayed me, hammering too fast, too loud as he outed that threat.

Any sane woman would’ve immediately reported this. Everything he ever said and did. But I wasn’t sane. Not when it came to Dean Rockwell.

I was desperate.

He finally took a step back, pulling his thumb out of my mouth, and pushing both his hands into his pockets. That cocky, almost arrogant look on his face would haunt me all day. All night. God, it would haunt me forever. But in the best way possible.

But he wouldn’t even give me time to process it before he said, “Come see me in my office after lunch.”

I didn’t have time to respond. Actually, I didn’t have the words to speak anyway. I just stood there, watching as he left the break room while my body kept on melting for him.

2

EMILIA

I didn’t go to his office after lunch.

Dean could issue all the commands he wanted, but I was determined to prove—to him and to myself—that I wasn’t his plaything anymore.

Of course, I was lying to myself when I said that I didn’t want him. That I was going to try my best and ignore him. It was hard. Unbelievably hard.

I sat at my desk instead, going over my emails, organizing the files that had started to pile up over the past few days, and pretending not to feel the phantom of his touch lingering on my skin. The break room encounter had left me shaken, but I refused to let it show. I couldn’t.God…he was ruthless. Still, I let him use me.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying my hardest to stop thinking about him. But even when my eyes were closed, Dean was all I could see. My body tensed, and I gave myself one hard mental push to stop.

Once my eyes were back on the screen, I continued to type out an email to a partner regarding a last-minute meeting change. Then, my desk phone rang, and I knew it was Dean before I could even see his name on the small screen.

Only he had this specific ringtone, and it made my skin crawl every time it filled the silence of my office.

I took a steadying breath before answering. “Yes, Mr. Rockwell?”

A pause. A long, deliberate silence. He mocked me, taunted me, even when he didn’t speak. “You didn’t come.” His voice was a deep drawl, low and simmering with irritation. Or amusement. Either way, it bothered me. Sent shivers down my spine in the worst, yet best, way possible.

I kept my tone even. “I’ve been busy.”

He exhaled, the sound laced with quiet frustration. “Come now.”

“No.”

Another pause, heavier this time. “No?”

“I said no, sir.” I let the title drip with the cold detachment I wished I truly felt. “If you need anything work-related, you can email me.”

The silence stretched, thick and pulsing between us. I could practically see the muscle in his jaw ticking, the way his fingers might have curled into a fist on his desk. The way he would stare me down with those cold, emotionless eyes.

Then, he let out a humorless laugh. “Is this how you want to play it?”

“I’m not playing anything,” I said coolly. “I’m working. As I should be.”

Another beat of silence. “You’re testing me, kitten.”

I gripped the phone tighter. The damn nickname. I wouldn’t let him win.

“I have work to do,” I said simply, before hanging up with pure regret setting deep in my stomach.

I wasn’t this cold. I was a kind person. Warm. Heartfelt. I cared about others. Maybe I cared a bit too much for Dean. I wanted to hate myself, but I was too kind to myself for that too.

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