Page 46 of Rush
She blinks, shaking her head gently. “I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Are you really gonna pass up juicy burgers for a granola bar?” I tease lightly, already placing the trays down and handing her a bag and a drink. “Come on. Treat yourself—I won’t take no for an answer,” I sing-song.
She hesitates only briefly before accepting, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Hmm. I get it now. Thanks, Elena.”
I’m not exactly sure what she means by that, but I smile back anyway. Grabbing the trays, I turn and head toward Broderick’s office, butterflies fluttering with every step.
I push open the office door with my back, hearing the faint clicking of keys from inside. My heart taps a frantic beat against my ribs.
God, what if he’s annoyed I interrupted him? Maybe I should just drop these and go.
His office is impressive—expansive windows stretching from floor to ceiling offer a dazzling view of the city at night. To the right is a sleek conference table big enough to seat twelve, and directly in front of his broad mahogany desk are two plush leather sofas framing a low glass coffee table. Along the left wall, a collection of awards, trophies, and photographs show Broderick smiling politely at ribbon-cuttings and gala dinners.
Lost in admiring the space, I let the heavy door slip from my grip. It slams shut louder than I intended.
Fuck. Smooth, Elena.
“Stacey…” Broderick calls absently, but when he sees me, his fingers halt mid-type. His brows shoot up, surprise quickly replaced by amusement. “El—well,thisis unexpected.”
“Yep, that’s me,” I say with forced cheerfulness, holding up the trays. “Full of surprises.”
He leans back in his chair, his lips tugging into an easy smile. “How was dinner at SORA?”
“Delicious, as always. Though considering you’ve never joined us the whole time Riley and I have been going, you don’t even know what you’re missing.”
He chuckles softly, stretching his arms behind his head. My eyes betray me, sliding helplessly down the tight pull of his shirt across his muscles. A hot pulse zings straight between my thighs, and I quickly avert my gaze.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Too soon. Save that for later when sleep evades me and my vibrator becomes my best friend again.
“I, um, brought you dinner. Figured you might be hungry.” My voice sounds more breathless than I intend. I round hisdesk and set the trays down, noticing a pitiful little container of almonds sitting sadly beside his keyboard. “Oh, wait—my bad. Looks like you’ve already got dinner covered,” I joke, feigning my retreat. “Almonds, yum. I’ll just take these burgers and go?—”
“Absolutely not,” he interrupts with a dark laugh, grabbing my arm gently. “You’re not going anywhere, Elena—not when whatever you’ve brought smells sofuckinggood.”
His hand is warm, strong, sending sparks ricocheting down my spine. It shouldn’t feel this intoxicating, yet here I am, internally melting at a single touch.Traitorous body.
He stands, grabbing one of the trays. “Come on, let’s sit.”
I follow him obediently, drink tray trembling slightly in my grip.
“I didn’t know Songbirds delivered,” he teases, settling onto one of the sofas.
“It’s a very exclusive service.”
“I’ll put in a good word, then,” he murmurs, eyes sparkling.
“I’d prefer a tip,” I reply coyly before realizing how that sounded. Dammit.
His lips twitch wickedly. “Just…the tip?”
My mouth falls open before I snap it shut.Walked straight into that one.
I roll my eyes dramatically, placing the tray on the coffee table. Now comes the dilemma: sit safely opposite him, or tempt fate and sit right beside him? Broderick watches my internal debate, thoroughly entertained.
“Sit down, El. I don’t bite,” he says softly, those damned dimples deepening. “Unless you ask nicely.”
My knees practically buckle beneath me, and I sink onto the sofa beside him, cheeks burning hot enough to ignite the entire office.
“Hope you like burgers. Don’t worry—they’regourmet,” I declare theatrically.
