I smirked at her, “I’m sure Zaid appreciated that.”
“He did,” Signe’s eyes glazed over, a loving expression covering her face as she thought about her boyfriend, “God, I love him.”
“Aww,” Violet rested her chin on her palm, “You almost make me want to believe in love again.”
“You should,” Signe grinned.
“Nah,” Violet shook her head, “The love for my daughter is more than enough for me.”
My thoughts started to wander after that, thinking about how casually comfortable Signe was able to dish out flattering compliments like that. How confident she was in her relationship with Zaid, and how she wasn’t blushing or too embarrassed to lift other people up.
Sometimes, I looked at Signe and how she behaved, to get an idea of what I could work on myself.
I wanted to be a girl’s girl. I had never been given a real opportunity to be a girl’s girl until I befriended these women. So I took note of that subtle comradery we shared during lunch. Even if it started with everyone (except Mary) agreeing that Leo was conventionally attractive.
He was more than conventionally attractive, though.
I thought he was one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. His eyes were my favorite part of his face, as cheesy and basic as that made me sound. They were such a specific light shade of blue, emphasized by how dark his hair was, that I had to intentionally stop myself from making direct eye contact whenever I saw them.
I had to force my gaze away more often than not, not wanting to come off as creepy or inviting. Eye contact was generally hard for me, mostly because I didn’t realize that it wasn’t a literal term at all.
Growing up, I thought you had to lock eyes with people to maintain eye contact, but apparently, no one actually did that. People looked at eyebrows, cheekbones, foreheads, whatever, and that still counted as eye contact.
I didn’t realize that until Marco explained it to me in high school.
It made me feel both relief and also annoyance. I had stressed so much about how uncomfortable eye contact with people made me, and I never needed to actually look someone in the eye this entire time.
Leo’s eyes though? I remembered getting lost in them the night we shared. I didn’t feel intimidated by his eye contact in an uncomfortable way. I was intimidated by his eye contact because of how much I loved it.
Which was why I needed to maintain a distance between us in the office.
Because as much as Marco would like to argue otherwise, stirring up anything like that with Leo was out of the question. Unprofessional. Irresponsible. Even unethical of me.
I was finding myself going through this mantra more and more often as the days went by. I refused to acknowledge my resolve, attempting to crumble every time Leo passed me in the hallway at work, or every time I heard him laugh with our coworkers.
We had a decent thing going when he wasn’t driving me up the wall or causing me undue stress.
He and I had to keep things professional, especially since he probably had no idea that I still struggled with an attraction to him. This daily pull I felt whenever he was near, and how desperate my body was to feel those same feelings I experienced that first and only night we shared.
No.
I was a grown woman, capable of using a vibrator.
I could deal with this.
I had to.
ChapterEight
JACQUELINE
“Where are you from?”I asked, panting on his chest. I needed a breather, but sitting here in awkward silence didn’t feel normal.
“London,” Leo replied, “You?” He rested a hand behind his head, flexing his bicep in a way that made me want to lick it.
“Here,” I sighed, snuggling into his chest, “Orange County has always been my home.”
“That sounds…” Leo inhaled a deep breath, making my head rise and fall with his chest, “Wonderful.”