Page 34 of Selfie

“Yes.” She puts one arm down, bracing herself with one hand planted on the rug.

I hop up and fetch a fistful of tissues from the box on my desk. Returning to Spencer, still on the floor, I wad them up in a ball and press them gently to her nostrils. “Let’s clean you up.”

“I can do it,” she insists, trying to take the tissues from me.

“Let me help,” I answer softly. “I know you can do it, but I’m trying to be nice.”

My words relaxing her, she sits as still as she can, letting me dab and wipe at her face, her eyes never leaving mine. It looks like she’s still in disbelief and trying to savor the moment. The silence between us crackles with something unspoken, but weboth understand.Yes, we want it. No, we can’t have it.It’s that simple.

When I’m satisfied with my handiwork, I meet her gaze.

“There. Back to pretty as usual.” I regret the words as soon as they slip out. Partially because I just admitted out loud that the word I’d use to describe Spencer is pretty. Also, because she doesn’t seem appreciative of the compliment. Her eyes flicker with uncertainty as the corners of her lips turn down.

“You are so confusing,” she grumbles.

Yeah. I realize.

She clambers to her feet all on her own. Now she’s lightly pressing against her eyelids. I’m sure her whole face hurts from that blow. Poor thing. “I think we should get some ice.”

“I’ll do it. You should get dressed.” Her gaze roves down my chest, lingering just a moment too long before snapping back up. “You have a meeting about the zoning permit in fifteen minutes.” It’s brief but unmistakable—the once-over she gives me, standing here in only my boxers. Her lips part slightly before she adds, “Gray, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, my voice strained and distracted.

Spencer points to the suits I dropped in front of the closet when she collapsed. “Looked like you were trying to decide. Go gray. Just my opinion.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

She nods, looking miserable. I want to blow off this meeting and ensure she gets ice and some Motrin. Actually, I want to give her the rest of the day off and take her home myself. But I bite back my inclination. Spencer is beautiful, smart, and witty as all hell. She’ll find someone great, but she’s not mine to save.

“Whatever you wanted to talk to me about, can it wait until this afternoon? I’d really like to leave with whatever dignity I have left and speak to you when my entire face isn’t throbbing.”

“That’s fine.” Now I’m in no hurry and really not looking forward to unleashing my clever plan to set Spencer up for failure. “Come back at two o’clock, after lunch?”

“Two o’clock,” she confirms. She wobbles on her first step, then takes a steady second step to exit my office.

“Hey, Spencer?” I call out when she’s nearly at the door.

“Hm?”

“Remember, pull, don’t push.” I let out a soft, pitying chuckle.

Her back is turned, but I bet she’s rolling her eyes.

I swear I hear her mutter “asshole” under her breath.

12

Spencer

There’s no denying it.

I noticed his bulge.

Also, while I’m being honest, I noticed the way his tan, defined six-pack was glittering in the morning sunlight like they were a Christmas present for me. I swear I only ogled him for a moment. Then I whipped around to restore his privacy.

Only problem was the damn door.

I was hopeful when I arrived at the office this morning the glacier-like work environment my boss worked so hard to create was finally melting. I’m a fantastic assistant. I could really help make his life easier if he let me. I don’t see picking up lunch and dry cleaning beneath me. Acts of service is my love language. I learned when Mom’s strength started to wane, the little things can make a world of difference. This was exactly the speech I intended to give Nathan when I burst through his office.

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