Page 100 of Phishing for Love
Sofia, seated next to me, pokes me with her elbow. “Blink.”
“I can’t seem to. My eyelids are immobilized.”
“You’re giving off serial killer vibes.”
“He’s worth looking at,” Kenzie agrees, “but don’t make it so obvious.”
“You’re right.” I’m about to look away but, in that moment, Aaron turns his head slightly and his eyes catch mine. Awareness crackles between us.
Slowly, everything around me fades away. Enya slurping her coffee, Mark gnawing his cuticles, Hannah tapping her fingers on the table. All of that becomes background noise. Unimportant. Uninteresting. In this pocket of silence, only the intense blue of Aaron’s gaze holds my attention. It’s that bottomless part of the ocean you’re tempted to dive into, not knowing what’s beneath the surface but knowing your feet will never touch the bottom.
“I think I’ve just tuned into Passionflix,” Sofia says under her breath.
Kenzie lets out a long exhale. “The two of you are turning this room into a fire hazard.”
Aaron takes a seat directly across the table from me.
“Knight to Queen Four,” Sofia murmurs in a gleeful voice.
“Okay, team,” Calvin booms, starting the meeting the way he normally does. “What’s our mission?”
“Connect, communicate, celebrate,” everyone replies dutifully.
“Make money,” Sofia whispers.
I have to stuff a knuckle in my mouth to stop myself laughing out loud.
I’m almost a hundred per cent certain Calvin has filched theconnect, communicate, celebrateslogan straight from Hallmark, but I don’t dare point it out to him. It’s not anywhereon our web site, it’s only the unofficial rah-rah cheer Calvin uses to galvanize his employees.
Clearing his throat, Calvin dives straight into which card lines are our most successful this month. Then he starts talking about... In truth, I have no idea what his next topic is about because Aaron has leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head.
My mind empties itself of anything greeting card related. The only image in my head right now is a shirtless Aaron leaning back against a headboard, legs stretched out in front of him, his fingers interlocked behind his head while I crawl—
Rick snaps the tab on his Coke, and I jump a little in my seat, my guilty fantasy fading to black.
Why is it getting hotter in here?
It appears Aaron is also feeling the heat because he unbuttons a shirt sleeve and slowly rolls up the cuff, exposing his forearm, the muscles there tensing with every movement. I’m mesmerized. He shifts to his other arm and rolls up that shirtsleeve too. How can a simple gesture be such excruciating torture to watch?
He looks up at me. The expression in his eyes does something to my insides. The air separating us feels weighted, loaded with anticipation.
“Tess!” Calvin barks. “You still up for it?”
I straighten in my seat. Up for what?
“Well?” he demands.
I respond with what I hope is the safest answer. “Absolutely.”
What the heck am I up for?
Calvin narrows his eyes at me. “Are you certain?”
“Of course,” I reply, at the same time that Sofia shakes her head and mumbles something out the side of her mouth that sounds like, “Sensitive.”
“Actually, no,” I amend. “I’m not up for it.”
“Why not?”
