Page 30 of Everything She Wanted

“Really?” Relief washes over me, and then a wave of exhaustion too. He likes something I created.

“I added a few details about the audience that you wouldn’t have known, but other than that, that’s it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your feedback and dinner and everything.” My body sags with relief.

Just then, the bottom tab on my screen lights up with a string of messages from Jess.

Are you still at work?

You better not be.

Unless it’s with hot AF Nick 🔥

That’s all I read before I abruptly reach over and close the screen, realizing too late that my arm is over his and my chest is nearly grazing his elbow. I pull back too fast and get up.

He slowly slides the laptop back over to me, and I don’t hazard a glance at him.

“I should get home.” I stack my things, then get up and move away from the table. In my rush to get away, I drop my hardcopy of the plan on the floor. He reaches down to help me, and his fingers brush mine while a smile dances on his lips.

“Where do you live?”

“Just over on Cambie Street. It’s about fifteen minutes away by SkyTrain.”

“I’ll walk with you to the station.”

I don’t know why he’s offering, but I don’t care as long as I get another moment with him, even as my embarrassment lingers in the air.

“Okay, sure.” I take a calm, steadying breath. “Let me just grab my things, and I’ll meet you at the elevators.” I give him a quick look and see one corner of his mouth still lifted in a smirk he’s trying and failing to suppress.

Jess. Seriously.

I hurry back to my office to grab my things, feeling better than I’ve felt in a long time.

He’s waiting by the elevator doors, striking in his bomber jacket, and a tiny thrill shoots through me at having just a little more time with him. So many of the office ladies would be jealous right now, and I almost wish someone were here to see us. I’m grateful I took extra care choosing my armour today: beige high-waisted pants cinched at the waist with a belt and a tight pastel pink long-sleeved shirt. I wonder if he noticed.

We walk into the elevator and out the front door, where it’s dark and softly raining. It’s so romantic. Thanks, universe. As we walk toward the station I steal a glance at his profile. Calm, assured, confident, and just being next to him, I feel a little better, too.

“Where do you live?” I think to ask.

“Not too far from here in Coal Harbour.”

That’s only a few blocks away. “Oh, but that’s so close. You don’t need to walk me to the station.”

“I don’t mind. I could use the fresh air.”

Because I don’t want him to go, I let my objections hang in the air unsaid, evaporating like mist on the sidewalk after summer rain.

His fingers sweep across mine accidentally, and I fight the temptation to grab hold of them.

Dinner, high praise, being walked to the SkyTrain—is this guy for real?

We reach the station all too quickly, and I pause at the top of the staircase.

“I’ll walk you down.”

Such a gentleman.

We reach the platform as he turns to me. “I meant what I said before.” He looks at me with that sea of blue, standing close enough that I can take a deep inhale of his delicious scent and imagine myself wrapped in it.