Page 8 of Falling Madly
XYZ. Crypto-Gavin. My posture straightened automatically, and I tried to relax my face. Was I looking too eager or creepy?
“So… you’re here with Gavin?” I scanned the room, hoping he’d point out the mythical CEO.
If nothing else, I could try to avoid him, which would ensure I didn’t embarrass myself in front of him.
Kyle looked over his shoulder, gesturing so vaguely it was no help. “Yeah. He’s here somewhere. Gavin’s hard to pin down. But we’re very excited to work with Wilde! None of us are creative like that. It’s so cool what you guys can do.”
“It’s a fascinating project.”
His eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Are you… working with us?”
I caught Trevor’s tall frame in my peripheral vision, in the doorway to the balcony. I could feel him approaching, like a shadow casting across the floor.
“I hope so,” I said, draining my drink.
“Reese!” Trevor’s giant hand landed on my shoulder. “I need to show you something. Excuse us.” He offered Kyle a quick smile, pivoting me away from him, out of earshot.
“Reese?”
“I’m user-testing nicknames.”
“Where’s the feedback form?” I was hyper aware of his hand on my shoulder but tried not to show it. Trevor was touching me.
He laughed, walking me across the large living room, weaving between people. “Is it not working? How about Rizz? Rizzler?”
“Are you twelve?”
“I have the sunny disposition of a twelve-year-old boy, hormones of a teenager and lungs of an eighty-year-old man.”
I had to laugh. “Sounds like a winning combo.”
I didn’t pay attention to where he was taking me, and suddenly found myself outside the apartment, waiting for an elevator. When it arrived, Trevor pulled me in.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
In the close quarters of the elevator, his broad frame seemed to take up all the space. Our faces reflected off the mirrored walls like a kaleidoscope of drunken smiles. He’d been teasing me for weeks. But always in jest. Always keeping his cool so that if I shot him down, he could step away smiling. No harm, no foul.
Trevor fascinated me. He seemed so even-keeled that I gravitated to him every time the slightest bit of drama erupted in the office. Next to him, I felt almost invincible, protected by that unflappable smile and tree-like physique. But I couldn’t figure out if he was really that chill, or just dissociating somehow.
I knew that I shouldn’t date a colleague. It was messy and could easily backfire. But he wasn’t my boss, so nobody could say I was trying to sleep my way anywhere. My tipsy brain loved that argument, hanging onto it as I leaned a little closer. I caught a whiff of his aftershave, something spicy and woodsy and all-man, and I wanted more.
I must have leaned a little too hard because my elbow brushed the alarm button on the wall. A loud ringing hit my eardrums.
“Shit! Shit!” What had I done?
The ringing continued for a moment as I stared at Trevor, my brain spinning in panicky circles, generating wild scenarios. Was this like calling an ambulance when you didn’t need it? Would they charge a call-out fee? Would they tell Crypto-Gavin since it was his building?
“What is your emergency?” A tired male voice rattled through the speaker on the wall.
Trevor bent down to speak to the microphone. “Apologies. False alarm.” There wasn’t a hint of shame or panic in his voice.
“Copy that.” The guy disconnected and the elevator came to a stop.
I took a deep breath, trying to settle my nerves. I could usually keep my inner chaos and spikes of anxiety to myself and appear somewhat collected. I’d been perfecting the act for years. But Trevor was the real deal. No elevated heart rate or rapid breathing. He seemed to have no physical reaction of any kind.
Sure, it was only an alarm button. No big deal. But I’d never accidentally hit one.
