Page 107 of The Love Lie
You have got to be kidding me.She hasn’t cried over a guy in six years, and now she can’t stop.Again?
It keeps happening like this, too quick to mount a defense. One second, she’s fine. And the next, pain radiates across her chest. Tears collect in her eyes. A knot forms in the back of her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Suddenly, she’s paralyzed as a bottomless well of dread yawns like a fissure down the center of her being.
Sam blinks rapidly to keep the quickly pooling water in her eyes at bay as her boss drones on. The meeting will be over in five minutes. She just needs to keep it together until then.
I can do this.
Focus.
The second they adjourn, she slams her laptop shut and jumps to her feet, racing for the bathroom. When she turns the corner, Spencer’s there like the shock reveal at the end of a horror movie. Sam claws at her chest as an embarrassingly loud gasp escapes.
“Jesus. You scared me.”
He smiles. “I have that effect on women.”
What does that even mean?Sam furrows her brow. “Excuse me. I have to pee.”
“Sam, wait.” He circles her wrist with his hand. Nausea curls in her gut the moment his skin comes in contact with hers. To think she once swooned at his touch.Kill me now.He’s repulsive. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“That’s funny, because I’ve been actively avoiding you.”
His nostrils flare. She fights the urge to grin.
“Come on. It was a million years ago.”
“And yet I still hate you with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns. It’s almost like the anger you feel after someone takes advantage of the fact that your sibling might be dying in order to sleep with you, and then laughs about it with his friends behind your back for three months, is the sort of rage that only festers with time.”
“Shh,” he admonishes and then looks around. “Someone might hear you.”
She snorts. “And what? Figure out what an asshole you are? They don’t need me for that. I have full confidence you’ll screw this job up all on your own.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.”
“I just want—”
“Save it. I couldn’t give two shits what you want. Now take your hand off me.”
He rolls his eyes, but lets her go.
Sam eyes the sharp cut of his lapel and the custom silk interior visible near the neckline of his jacket. “Nice suit.”
“I had it made.”
“I can tell.”
She leans in closer than would be considered appropriate for an office setting. The asshole can’t hide the intrigue in his eyes, but this isn’t foreplay.
“Touch me again,” she whispers, her voice as sharp as the scissors she really freaking wishes she were holding, because the effect would be epic, “and it’s snip snip, motherfucker.”
He whips back. His eyes go wide.
“I knew that was you! I fucking knew it!”
Sam lifts her middle finger and brushes by him on her way to the bathroom. The second the stall door closes, the tears fall. Cooper’s words swirl through her thoughts like a mocking breeze.
This is winning?
