Page 71 of Not Safe for Work

She laughs, covering her mouth, the screen blurring as she folds at the waist. “Him?”

“You know my rule on dating at WMC.”

“I do, and I understand why you think you need to cling to it. But what happened was years ago, and rules are made to be broken. Rafe isn’t Leo. If you’d pull your head out of your ass, you would have realized that a long time ago.”

I press my lips together. “I don’t know if I can break this rule.”

“Yes, you can. Especially when the reason is six-plus feet of gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” I say. “He’s not that good-looking. He’s a seven at best.”

Molly snorts so hard I worry she’s blown a nostril. “Yeah, sure. You basically melt every time he walks into the room.”

I sag against the wall. “Molly. It was the most amazing kiss I’ve ever had. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Her smile stretches so wide I can see every one of her teeth.

“And now?” she asks.

“Now, we yelled at each other and are pretending like it never happened.”

She blows out a breath, fluffing the bangs that have fallen over her eyes. “Typical.”

“I’m going on a date with Andy tonight,” I add.

“Excuse me? Why?”

“’Cause I can’t stop thinking about Rafe.”

“I’m sure that must make sense in your mind.”

I rub my temple as my head starts to pound. “Molly. I gotta go lie down.”

“Okay. Tris—I want details immediately when you both finally cave.”

“We’re not having sex,” I declare just as an elderly couple shuffles by where I’m standing in front of the elevator. They regard me with judgment, and I hunt for a rock to climb under.

“You are definitely having sex,” Molly says. “You’ve finally cracked the pull tab, and it’s only a matter of time before the pressure blows off the lid.”

“Well, that’s very poetic,” I say, and she snickers.

Is she right? Do I want her to be?

Just then, Rafe appears around the corner and stops to wait for the elevator beside me. Molly screams again, shouting Rafe’s name so loud my ears nearly bleed.

“Rafe! Hi, Rafe!”

I pull out my earbud, but that’s a rookie mistake, because the tinny sound of her voice fills the air. I make out the words kissed, fuck, and Trishara before I slam the disconnect button in mortification. When I get home, I’m going to tie her up, throw her in the back of my trunk, and dump her in the Chicago River.

The elevator chimes, and Rafe and I step inside. I refuse to look at him, but I can see his reflection in the shiny metal door as he watches me from the corner of his eye. Did he hear that? If I pretend it never happened, then it didn’t. Sure, that works.

When we arrive on our floor, I practice my hundred-meter dash and bolt for our room.

Slamming the bedroom door behind me, I pop some painkillers and fire off a text to my parents to let them know I’m alive.

Then I decide to take a nap. I set an alarm for my date with Andy and flop on the bed, thinking of bottomless brown eyes and messy dark hair as I drift off to sleep.

The alarm goes off sooner than I’d like. I jolt awake, blinking through the fogginess of sleeping in the afternoon. I flop onto my back and stare at the ceiling for several minutes before I will myself up. Still dressed in my skirt from earlier, I pull down the zip, let it drop to the floor, and step out before heading for the closet.

I pick a halter sundress that falls past my knees. Something very different from the outfit I wore last night, lest I give Andy any unintentional ideas.