Page 27 of A Million Times, Yes
My teeth had sunk into my bottom lip. I didn’t know when they’d gone on the attack, but it was starting to hurt. “I ... think I can make that happen.”
He released my face and took out his phone. “What’s your number?”
“Why do you need my number?” I teased.
He glanced up from his screen. “So I can text you what hotel I’m at.”
“Swapping numbers is kind of serious, Jordan. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
He grinned as he shook his head. “You’re never going to make this easy on me, are you?”
I held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
He hit the screen several times and passed it over, a blank contact page waiting for me. I typed in my first name and added my number and saved it before returning the phone to him.
“I just texted you.” He then slid his cell into his pocket.
“So official-feeling. Are you all right?” I laughed. “Or are you about to have a panic attack?”
“We don’t ever have to text each other, Maya, and you don’t even have to come to the hotel.” He grabbed my waist. “I’ll bring you under the bridge right now and taste you there.”
“I think I prefer the hotel.”
“And you think I’m the one who’s trying to make it more official feeling? Sounds like it’s you.”
I could lick that smile off his face, it was that delicious. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I just want to be able to get in my five miles today and not be late for work. If I factor in the under-bridge shenanigans, I’ll most definitely be late to work.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I rolled my eyes at him and smiled. “Come on. Let’s run.”
We were less than a minute in when he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen, grinning at whatever message had just come in.
This was a different smile from the one he’d had moments ago.
It was raw and sinful and sexy as hell.
“Someone just got good news,” I said.
He put his phone away. “The thing that took me away from yesterday’s run worked out just the way I wanted it to.”
I scanned my memory. “I don’t even know what you do for work.”
“It’s boring.”
“‘Boring’ like you enter data into a computer all day and look at nothing but numbers and a screen?”
“Notthatboring. It’s more of a ... corporate position.”
“Is it relaxed or uptight?”
“I certainly can’t wear scrubs to work, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I smiled. “I just mean, is the role chill or highly stressful? Are you a boss?”
“I’m a bit of everything.”
“So you’re telling me you’re one of those ...” I winked at him.
