JP
Following a string of calls to Vegas over lunch, I step onto the lawn to assess my team’s progress. But Lucy’s absence is glaring.
I find her in the kitchen, staring into the freezer as if she’s expecting a frozen chicken to engage her in conversation.
“Lucy.”
She whirls around, shutting the freezer with a slam. She shoots me a look that could freeze hell.
So we’re doing this dance again? Two steps forward, one step back.
“Hey,” she mutters half-heartedly. “I was just grabbing some ice.”
I move toward her, my gaze fixed on those captivating blue eyes that I woke up this morning thinking about. Her back hits the fridge as her arms fold defensively.
“Feels like there’s some tension brewing between us,” I say, my voice low and quiet. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s a million bucks,” she snaps, sarcasm dripping from each word.
She’s pissed. Why? I search her face. Have memories returned?
“Do you regret what happened between us?” I ask with calculated smoothness.
“Obviously,” she fires back straightaway.
Her response is a kick in the teeth.
“That’s not who I am,” she goes on, eyes blazing. “Maybe I gave you the wrong impression. I don’t normally… get involved with the boss.”
I’m aware. You’re exclusively mine.
I rake a hand through my hair. “Lucy, I understand you more than you give me credit for.”
She squirms, her discomfort palpable. Clearly, she’d prefer the ground to swallow her whole than be in my company.
Panic swells inside me, tightening around my throat like a vice. The past two nights, ever since our kiss, I went to sleep with a smile for the first time in weeks. I thought she did too. I was so sure this was the beginning of something real between us again. It’s painstakingly hard to be around her without crowding her.
Now, she glares at me as if she’d prefer dealing with the devil himself.
I draw a deep breath, scrutinizing her face. Did I misinterpret the signals? The kiss-it wasn’t one-sided.
“If I misread the situation, I apologize. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. But for full disclosure-I’ve been replaying that kiss, every damned second of it, since it happened.”
She flinches, as though I’ve slapped her across the face, and then I realize I’ve been harboring a fool’s hope. The kind of hope that our kiss might be a kind of revelation for her, a cinematic moment where she awakens to the truth of us.
“Look, JP, I’m not like that,” she says firmly. “I don’t screw around. And frankly, there’s nothing you’re after that I can offer.”
She steps back, putting some distance between us, as she reaches for her forgotten lemonade on the counter.
Her inference irks me, and a frown tugs at my brows. “And what is it, exactly, that you think I’m after?”
“Isn’t it glaringly obvious?”
“Humor me.”
“A fling for the week.” Her words are clipped, her chin lifting slightly in defiance. She’s slotting me into the archetype of a playboy without a second thought. “Some light entertainment.”
I blink. “Where the hell did that come from?”
She huffs out a breath, avoiding a response.
“Seems we’re on different pages then,” I say in a low voice, but she’s already edging away, ready to bolt.
“Lucy,” I call, my voice hard as she moves to leave the kitchen.
She stops, shoulders tensing. “Yes?”
“You forgot your ice,” I shoot back.
With that, I stride past her, exiting the room, my throat choked with words unsaid and emotions unresolved, feeling uncharacteristically powerless.
The treadmill roars beneath me, my legs hammering out a relentless rhythm, sweat flinging off me in waves. I dial it back to a leisurely stroll, my lungs gulping in sweet relief when a text lights up my phone.
Damn it.
A big-shot airline tycoon’s charity event is tonight. This guy fills up our hotels across the country with his crew, so I’ve got to show face. A night of mindless babbling, forcing grins, and women making passes at me.
Regrettably, I said yes. A grunt of annoyance slips out as I jab the treadmill’s stop button, slinging a towel around my neck.
It’s Thursday, the team leaves tomorrow. Tensions with Lucy are running high, like a wire stretched thin. I can’t afford to waste a whole night at this charity gig, not when every ticking minute seems to rile up Lucy’s impression of me.
Stripping off my soaked shorts, I trudge into the shower, the cold water a rough remedy on my fired-up skin.
All right then. Two problems, one fix.
Leaning against the wall, I watch as the team lays out its strategies. They’re on point, hitting every mark.
Lucy’s changed into a snug blue T-shirt, probably because of the heat. The fabric hugs her figure perfectly, my gaze lingering just a touch too long. Her hair’s swept up into a messy ponytail, bangs hanging over her eyes.
When it’s her turn to present, her nerves are palpable.
Alongside Matty, they present their design concepts on the whiteboard. Their ideas are robust, though the delivery could use some finesse.
Watching Lucy, I remember what drew me to her in the first place-her quick wit, and the way her eyes lit up when talking about her work. Being around her made me realize how little I laughed.
Her striking blue eyes are clouded with uncertainty, feet shuffling. She’s never been a fan of public speaking, but she’s holding her own. I can’t pry my gaze off her, a fact she seems acutely aware of. But I’ll be damned if I look away.
As she wraps up her presentation, her voice wavers. “Is this… okay? Is it what you want?” She glances in my direction, the question lingering in the air.
I meet her gaze. “It’s exactly what I want.”
Her cheeks flush a vivid scarlet, my words working like unseen kisses. I’ve never seen anything so fucking hot in my life.
I allow the moment to simmer, building the tension until it thrums, before eventually breaking eye contact.
Pushing away from the wall, I address the crew. “Impressive work, guys. These ideas are solid.”