I tried to tell myself it was because of the stories Samantha had shared today at lunch. His wax invention—I was shaving my legs. That’s why I was thinking about him in the shower instead of my date. When I washed my torso, I thought of the small ring in his nipple. I might have let my hand linger a little too long as I sudsed up my breasts. They need to be washed, after all. And I was only thinking of Chase as I closed my eyes because I was curious about what his handsome face might look like if I took that ring between my teeth and tugged. I stopped my hand from lingering anywhere else, but it wasn’t an easy feat. I had Chase on the brain when I should have had someone else.
On the way over to Bryant’s, I stopped and picked up a bottle of wine I knew he liked. When he opened the door, he was sweet. “You look amazing,” he said, then gave me a nice, welcome kiss.
A buzzer was going off in the kitchen, so he told me to follow him. I checked the apartment out as I walked through. It was clean and modern—even had some artwork on the walls. Most of my previous boyfriends thought decorating meant hanging a sixty-inch TV. Progress.
Bryant lifted the top off a pot and put it aside. Opening a box of rigatoni pasta, he smiled. “I make two dishes: rigatoni alla vodka and chicken parmigiana. You had pasta primavera the first time we went out, so I thought rigatoni was the safest bet.”
It was thoughtful that he remembered what I ate. “Can I do anything to help?”
“You can grab two glasses from there.” His chin pointed to a cabinet on his left as he poured the pasta into the boiling water. “There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge I already opened. I’ll get the pasta going. You can pour.”
He watched me while I filled each glass. “What?”
“I want to say something, but it might come off as creepy.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Well, now you have to say it.” I sipped my wine and extended his glass.
“All right. I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was in the shower today—how gorgeous you are.”
That should have made me feel good, but instead, it made me feel like complete shit. While the great guy I was dating had been thinking about me…I’d been feeling myself up to thoughts of another man.
I forced a weak smile. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”
He stepped closer and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “I mean it. I like you. You’re smart, beautiful, and driven. I know it’s early, but I feel like what’s going on between us is a really good thing. It has legs.”
I swallowed. I really did like him, too. But something was keeping me from jumping in with both feet. His words were what every single, twenty-eight-year-old woman wanted to hear from a great guy. Yet…I wasn’t there yet.
He read it on my face.
Pulling back, he said, “I’m freaking you out, aren’t I?”
I hated to make him feel bad, because I really did like him. “No…not at all. I like you, too. I just…I just think we should take it slow at the beginning. I haven’t had much luck in the relationship department, and I tend to be gun-shy, I guess.”
He nodded. And although he smiled, I could tell he was disappointed with my response. Hell, I was disappointed with my response. I’d been trying to talk myself into being crazy about him for a while now.
But that’s what was missing—that crazy feeling I should have had. This early on, butterflies should have been flapping their colorful wings when he said those things or looked at me like he did when he opened the door. I was determined to keep trying. He seemed worth it.
Even though Bryant said he agreed we should take things slow, a damper was cast on the rest of the night. Still, I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to make the choice about sleeping with him if things went in that direction. Because I’d realized I wasn’t ready yet. As the night came to an early end, I wondered if I would ever be.
Chapter 5
Reese
“I really need to start taking taxis,” I grumbled under my breath as I rushed up the subway stairs and headed down the block toward the building I would have already been at had my train not been stuck for twenty minutes. My interview was at eleven, and it was already eleven-oh-one. Perhaps changing my outfit eight times this morning hadn’t helped my punctuality either.
The Maxim building was a modern¸ all-glass highrise with more than fifty floors. Inside the massive, sleek lobby, it took me a minute to even figure out where the company directory was—everything was silver and shiny. Finding it, I scanned for Parker Industries and ran my finger across the glass to locate the corresponding location. Floor thirty-three.