Page 73 of Things I Overshared
What?
Please kiss me, please kiss me, please kiss me.
He runs his nose along mine and whispers, “How do you do that?”
“W-What?” I say, amazing myself that I can form words when I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Put . . . everyone at ease.” His lips almost barely brush against mine as he talks, and it forces my back to arch. I am dying under his touch, knowing his hands under my ears are the only explanation for why my head hasn’t totally detached and floated away.
“I—” is all I get out as his nose and lips barely brush all around the edges of my mouth.
“You are an opus all on your own, Samantha.”
I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much, too soft, too sweet, too hot. I am going to explode into tiny blissful pieces from just the graze of his mouth on mine.
“Emerson, kiss me,” I whisper, and I feel his body push in closer to me for a fraction of a second, and then, as if my words broke our spell, he drops his hands and pulls back.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes. I feel myself turning crimson as he takes another step back and disgust flashes across his face. I let out some of the bated breath I’ve been holding and cross my arms. They offer no protection from the chill his touch leaves behind. He looks me in the eye again and mutters “Forgive me” before he stalks off. Once again, I’m left in his wake, shocked and blushing.
What?
What just happened?
And why on earth did he stop?
He wants me but is disgusted at himself for wanting me? Is he mad at himself because he sees me as off-limits? Because it’s unprofessional? Whatever is going on in his stunning head, I intend to find out.
Chapter 23
I push through the rest of my day with fervor. Handshake, smile, joke, personal story, personal question, product reference, question, sales numbers, question, raving reviews, joke, smile, hug, business card, rinse, repeat.
Emerson’s words play through my mind as I work. Do I really put everyone at ease? I guess I can kind of see that, and it sparks a flicker of pride in me. But as soon as I’m feeling assured, I remember the disgust spoiling his gorgeous features after our almost-kiss.
I am a jumbled mess of questions when the day comes to an end. I meet Nicole back at our booth, and she lets me know we had a fantastic sales day, plus tons of interested buyers and happy social media mentions. Sadie messages us to meet her in the greenroom so we can head to find some dinner. On our way out, Thomas waves us down. Dread creeps up my spine when I notice how he looks at me.
“Good day one, ladies?” he asks with a hopeful smile.
“Great day one,” I say. “You?”
“Pretty nice, yes. Bit slow there at the end, but people get peckish early after a conference day, right? I’m famished.”
I nod. Nicole nudges me with her elbow, and I shoot her a question with my eyes. She takes over.
“We’re just headed to dinner. Why don’t you and Tim join us?”
“You sure?” He looks at me as he asks it.
“Of course!” I say with fake enthusiasm. I don’t want to be rude, especially not to a buyer of ours, but dinner with him sounds long and boring. I want to hurry back to that suite and pound on that door until the beautiful beast inside gives me some answers.
“Fantastic. I’ll just go fetch Tim, and we’ll get a move on. Where to?” he asks.
Nicole looks at me.
“You tell us, Londoner,” I tease, shocked at how genuine my flirting sounds.
“Right. You have my number, yeah? You just text me, and I’ll send you a place.”
I nod, and Nicole almost shouts “Sounds great!” to his back as he hustles away. She snaps her head to me and lowers her volume. “Hello, what’s wrong with you? He is smokin’ hot and hasn’t stopped drooling after you since yesterday!”
