Page 25
Story: Art of Convenience
“Are we playing twenty-one questions here?”
“Just wondering if I can get you to hit your daily word count goal before 9 a.m.” I’m not surprised by my boldness. Not that these kinds of remarks are unusual for me, but they typically stay in my head or if they do come out it’s only when I’m around someone I’m comfortable with, which is basically just Taylor. To my surprise though the world’s smallest smile flutters over his face before he hides it by running his fingers across his chin.
“It’s a Japanese dragon.”
“What does it mean?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee. He moves to stand next to me while scratching his eyebrow with the back of his finger—a move that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is but yet, here we are.
“I guess, if you looked it up online you would find it to be an ancient symbol considered to protect and guard families and homes.” He braces his hands on the counter next to me.
“And is that what it means to you?” Sitting up on the island puts us at eye-level and I take in the darkness of his eyes that not eventhe morning sun flooding the room can pierce the depth of. His eyebrows furrow as he watches me, his fingers idly tap on the counter while the sound of water dripping from his last pour, continues behind him.
I’m snapped out of my daze when his finger brushes against my thigh and a shiver runs through me. I’m not sure if it's from the dream I had or the way we’re dancing around each other right now, but being in this space with him has my lungs working overtime trying to take in air.
“I better get going,” I whisper. “I’m meeting Taylor for breakfast soon.”
He pushes off the island and leans on the counter behind him, crossing his arms. I take in a deep breath, my nose filling with a mix of the fresh brewed coffee and the spicy warm scent of the man in front of me. When I hop off the counter I open my mouth to say something but all the words escape me. The intensity of his gaze on me has me feeling like I’m laid out bare for his viewing pleasure. The drip of his coffee finally comes to a stop causing the silence in the room to only expand. When he turns his back to me reaching up for another ceramic mug, I take the opportunity of not being frozen under his stare to sneak away.
Miles
Me
I left a file on my desk, any chance you’re still in the office?
Jonas
It’s 9:30 you fucking weirdo. No. I’m not still in the office.
Shit.I’m typically one of the last people to leave the office but I stayed late tonight, even by my standards. I’ve been distracted by a certain dark-haired beauty the last few days and today was no different. I spent the first half of the morning thinking about the way her skin pebbled when my finger brushed against her and the second half thinking about the look on her face when I brought up the kiss.That kiss.
When I saw Sam heading towards us in the lobby, I meant to give Camila what would appear to be a quick kiss and thank you for dropping off my papers. But as soon as the weight of her body fell into my arms, everything changed. I was no longer focused on putting on a show for my boss. I was wrapped up in Camila’s soft lips. The way my skin heated when she dug her fingers into the nape of my neck. It would be so easy for a man to grow addicted to kissing her. It took everything in me to break that kiss. To not back her into the elevator and pull the emergency stop button. I wanted to do things to her that would have Cindy at the front desk calling HR.
But despite the way her face heated, Camila blew the whole thing off as if it was no different than kissing her grandmother goodbye after Thanksgiving dinner. And hell, if that wasn’t a punch to the gut. But I should be thankful I guess because I was only a second away from telling her how much I liked it.
I pocket my phone as the elevator doors open. It takes three steps for me to spot that messy knot of hair on top of Camila’s head and stop dead in my tracks. The glow emanating from her phone lights her face as she sits in the otherwise dark room.
“Hey.” Her voice is raspy and I realize I’m still just standing here staring at her because I’m still not used to someone being here when I get home. “How was your day?”
I drop my things off in my home office before moving to the kitchen and turning some soft lighting on. “Fine.”
She twists around, putting an elbow on the back of the couch and her head in her hand. “What exactly do you do?”
“I’m a corporate lawyer.”
“Yeah, I know. But what does that mean? What do you actually do all day?”
“It would bore you.”
“You said something like that, the last time I asked. You don’t like talking about work?”
I really wouldn’t know how I feel about talking about my work with someone.The few times Jonas and I get a drink after, the last thing we want to talk about is work. “Today I met with two clients and did a lot of reading.” Her lips form a tight line when she nods her head. Well, looks like I’ve found something I’m not the best at. Safe to say even if I wanted to talk to someone about my day, I do a shit job at it. “What were you doing sitting in the dark?”
“I spent the afternoon looking at job listings. I found one that didn’t look completely awful.” She stretches her arms up before pulling the band out of her hair, sending the wavy strands free down her back. “I applied for it, so we’ll see,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Anyway, I ended up falling asleep and I just woke up, so now I’m wide awake.” I move around the kitchen, grabbing the glass decanter and pouring myself a drink. “So, what do you usually do after work?”
I fit the stopper and turn back around to face her. “What do you mean?”
“Like when you come home at night? I know you work out in the morning and then you go to work,”she answers, putting ‘go to work’ in air quotes. “But then you come home and, what?” I take a drink from my glass and close my eyes briefly while swallowing the smoky liquid.
“Typically I go through more emails while I eat dinner and then I shower, change, and go to bed.” Her head tilts down but her eyebrows shoot up.
“Just wondering if I can get you to hit your daily word count goal before 9 a.m.” I’m not surprised by my boldness. Not that these kinds of remarks are unusual for me, but they typically stay in my head or if they do come out it’s only when I’m around someone I’m comfortable with, which is basically just Taylor. To my surprise though the world’s smallest smile flutters over his face before he hides it by running his fingers across his chin.
“It’s a Japanese dragon.”
“What does it mean?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee. He moves to stand next to me while scratching his eyebrow with the back of his finger—a move that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is but yet, here we are.
“I guess, if you looked it up online you would find it to be an ancient symbol considered to protect and guard families and homes.” He braces his hands on the counter next to me.
“And is that what it means to you?” Sitting up on the island puts us at eye-level and I take in the darkness of his eyes that not eventhe morning sun flooding the room can pierce the depth of. His eyebrows furrow as he watches me, his fingers idly tap on the counter while the sound of water dripping from his last pour, continues behind him.
I’m snapped out of my daze when his finger brushes against my thigh and a shiver runs through me. I’m not sure if it's from the dream I had or the way we’re dancing around each other right now, but being in this space with him has my lungs working overtime trying to take in air.
“I better get going,” I whisper. “I’m meeting Taylor for breakfast soon.”
He pushes off the island and leans on the counter behind him, crossing his arms. I take in a deep breath, my nose filling with a mix of the fresh brewed coffee and the spicy warm scent of the man in front of me. When I hop off the counter I open my mouth to say something but all the words escape me. The intensity of his gaze on me has me feeling like I’m laid out bare for his viewing pleasure. The drip of his coffee finally comes to a stop causing the silence in the room to only expand. When he turns his back to me reaching up for another ceramic mug, I take the opportunity of not being frozen under his stare to sneak away.
Miles
Me
I left a file on my desk, any chance you’re still in the office?
Jonas
It’s 9:30 you fucking weirdo. No. I’m not still in the office.
Shit.I’m typically one of the last people to leave the office but I stayed late tonight, even by my standards. I’ve been distracted by a certain dark-haired beauty the last few days and today was no different. I spent the first half of the morning thinking about the way her skin pebbled when my finger brushed against her and the second half thinking about the look on her face when I brought up the kiss.That kiss.
When I saw Sam heading towards us in the lobby, I meant to give Camila what would appear to be a quick kiss and thank you for dropping off my papers. But as soon as the weight of her body fell into my arms, everything changed. I was no longer focused on putting on a show for my boss. I was wrapped up in Camila’s soft lips. The way my skin heated when she dug her fingers into the nape of my neck. It would be so easy for a man to grow addicted to kissing her. It took everything in me to break that kiss. To not back her into the elevator and pull the emergency stop button. I wanted to do things to her that would have Cindy at the front desk calling HR.
But despite the way her face heated, Camila blew the whole thing off as if it was no different than kissing her grandmother goodbye after Thanksgiving dinner. And hell, if that wasn’t a punch to the gut. But I should be thankful I guess because I was only a second away from telling her how much I liked it.
I pocket my phone as the elevator doors open. It takes three steps for me to spot that messy knot of hair on top of Camila’s head and stop dead in my tracks. The glow emanating from her phone lights her face as she sits in the otherwise dark room.
“Hey.” Her voice is raspy and I realize I’m still just standing here staring at her because I’m still not used to someone being here when I get home. “How was your day?”
I drop my things off in my home office before moving to the kitchen and turning some soft lighting on. “Fine.”
She twists around, putting an elbow on the back of the couch and her head in her hand. “What exactly do you do?”
“I’m a corporate lawyer.”
“Yeah, I know. But what does that mean? What do you actually do all day?”
“It would bore you.”
“You said something like that, the last time I asked. You don’t like talking about work?”
I really wouldn’t know how I feel about talking about my work with someone.The few times Jonas and I get a drink after, the last thing we want to talk about is work. “Today I met with two clients and did a lot of reading.” Her lips form a tight line when she nods her head. Well, looks like I’ve found something I’m not the best at. Safe to say even if I wanted to talk to someone about my day, I do a shit job at it. “What were you doing sitting in the dark?”
“I spent the afternoon looking at job listings. I found one that didn’t look completely awful.” She stretches her arms up before pulling the band out of her hair, sending the wavy strands free down her back. “I applied for it, so we’ll see,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Anyway, I ended up falling asleep and I just woke up, so now I’m wide awake.” I move around the kitchen, grabbing the glass decanter and pouring myself a drink. “So, what do you usually do after work?”
I fit the stopper and turn back around to face her. “What do you mean?”
“Like when you come home at night? I know you work out in the morning and then you go to work,”she answers, putting ‘go to work’ in air quotes. “But then you come home and, what?” I take a drink from my glass and close my eyes briefly while swallowing the smoky liquid.
“Typically I go through more emails while I eat dinner and then I shower, change, and go to bed.” Her head tilts down but her eyebrows shoot up.
Table of Contents
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