I’m not sure how much time goes by, but when my eyes open, they feel glued together. My lips are dry. My mouth is chalky. Lifting my hand, I rub the sleep from my eyes. That’s when I realize I fell asleep with my dress on. I didn’t even wash off my makeup.
Throwing my leg over the side of the bed, I stand. At least I took off my shoes. My bare feet hit the wood floor, and I make my way to the bathroom. On my walk, I unzip my dress and step out of it. Then I head into the bathroom, turn on the sink, and splash water over my face. I’m not sure what time it is, probably the middle of the night. I look like I got hit with a bat.
There is no way I’ll be up to go to the office. I duck my head and put my mouth under the faucet and drink. I feel like a sorority girl after a frat party. Once I’m done, I head back into my room, slip under the covers, and grab my phone. Before I fall asleep, I shoot one text.
Me: Calling in sick.
Then I turn my phone off and fall asleep.
A pounding on the door wakes me.
What the hell is going on?
Bang.
Bang.
Again, the sound.
It feels loud enough to shake the whole apartment, probably even loud enough to wake the neighbors. My hand lifts and scrubs at my eyes.
“Who the hell is banging this early in the morning?” I mumble to myself before standing from the bed and grabbing my robe. Tying the sash to keep it from gaping, I head to the door. I regret the decision to get out of bed the moment I look through the peephole. There, standing behind the door, is the imposing body of Tobias.
Why the hell is he here?
Then it comes back to me.
A late-night text message, one where I told him I was going to take the day off.
“Skye, open the door,” his voice commands through the thick wood of the door. My neighbor will probably call the police if he doesn’t stop shouting at me.
Maybe I should do what he asks before there is a problem. I don’t, though. Nor do I say anything. Maybe if I’m quiet, he won’t know I’m home.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he speaks. “Skye, I know you’re in there. I can see your shadow through the door.”
I huff as I turn the lock and swing open the door. Tobias stands tall and commanding right outside the doorframe.
“What do you want?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
I cross my arms over my chest. I’m in a robe in my foyer, and he’s looking at me like a starving man, and I’m dinner.
My legs wobble beneath me, but I somehow manage to keep my face neutral. At least, I think I do. For all I know, he can see through all my walls. I hope not, or he will know that despite my straight face, I’m a mess.
It takes everything inside me not to stare at his lips. Not to look at the way his mouth moves when he talks. I stare into his eyes, but that’s not much better. What I see inside them makes butterflies explode in my stomach. Wings flutter. Nervous energy courses through me, but I don’t break my eye contact.
“Why are you here?” I say through clenched teeth, annoyed that this man has this big effect on me.
Leave before I do something stupid.
“Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Get dressed. We have stuff to go over.” His voice is no longer flirty. It’s commanding, and I know I don’t have a choice.
Without another word, I turn, leaving him on my doorstep.
Making quick work of getting dressed, I throw on a dress, heels, and then head to the bathroom to straighten up. Five minutes don’t pass before I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
“That didn’t take long,” Tobias says, now standing in my foyer.
“Who said you can come into my apartment?” At my words, or maybe my attitude, he grins. He’s having fun with this. I am not. All I can think about is the damn kiss and all the reasons I can never kiss him again. Yet my damn brain refuses to stop replaying it.
It’s like a movie on repeat you can’t turn off.
“I didn’t think you’d want me waiting out in the hallway so your neighbors could see me.”
“So instead, you wait in my foyer with the door open, and they can still see you.”
He does something I don’t expect. He laughs.
This man who doesn’t smile or laugh with his closest friends has managed to do both for me. A strange feeling of electricity courses through my body. It feels like pins and needles, and my heart batters my breastbone at the thought.
I can’t feel this way. It’s not good. I can’t think of a reason he does these things in front of me and not in front of anyone else. If I do, I might want to kiss him again. Hell, I might want to do more.
A round two in the bathroom, but this time, I won’t let him leave.
Nope.
Neither can happen. First off, he’s my client, and second—and more importantly—he’s a distraction. I can’t afford any distractions right now.
It’s bad enough that I screwed up my big opportunity last night with Mr. Bernard.
Today is a new day, and I will not make the same mistake twice.
30
Tobias
She’s cute when she tries to act mad at me, but I see right through her. She’s scolding herself for being affected by me. Well, take a number. So am I. But I’m done caring about that shit. Now that I had a taste of Skye Matthews, I need another.
“Let’s go. The car is waiting.” I turn my back on her and walk toward the stairs.
Something tells me she never takes the elevator in this building. It has disaster written all over it. There is no way this elevator isn’t stopping midway between floors and then crashing to the ground level.
Behind me, I can hear her shoes hitting the carpet. A part of me expects her to make a reference to last night.
She doesn’t, though. No words are uttered as we walk down the stairs, and then once in the car, she’s silent as well.
“Today, we need to go over the final papers on the Miami deal.”
“Fine.”
Her one-word answer pisses me off. I’d rather she scream that it was a mistake than stay silent.
Maybe it was a mistake, but it’s one I plan to do again. Now she needs to get with the program. A part of me, the nice part, thinks I need to tell her the rest of my story. Another part doesn’t want to.
“You know, I could have looked at the papers at home. You didn’t have to drag me into your office to do this.”
“Are you going to have this attitude all day?”
“Yep.”
“Good to know.”
She shrugs. “You asked.”
“I did.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Tired?” I ask. She left earlier than me. “Why are you so tired?”
“I went to bed late.” She’s not looking at me. She’s staring at the window.
“Why didn’t you sleep?”
“I was busy.” She turns to look at me. Her head is tilted down, and she has an angry scowl on her face. It seems she is daring me to press, and knowing her, she is.
“Doing what?” This time when I speak, my voice is rough. I want to know what the fuck she was doing with Bernard that made her so damn tired today.