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Shaking my head, I drop my hand from the area it was covering. “Nothing.”

His hand darts out to replace mine, and my body fizzes with another dose of excitement. “Sure didn’t look like nothing.”

Taking a deep breath, I center myself and then take a step back, far enough so I’m now out of reach. “I’m fine, but I am really busy.”

“I want to fuck you again.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline in surprise. I thought I was the queen of come out and say it. “I’m sorry?”

He closes the space between us again, and I step back once more. But this time, my back is met with the wall. He places his palm above my head and leans into me, his breath dancing across my collarbone. “No one finishes a meal after only the appetizer. Especially when it was that good. I want more. The entire menu.”

Heat pools at my core.

“It wasn’t that good.”

Throwing his head back, he laughs, and I’m one hundred percent sure the office can hear.

“Shh! What the fuck are you doing?”

“Jesus, Kate. You’re so full of bullshit.” He sounds incredulous.

“Aww, does it hurt your manhood that a woman finally turned you down?”

“No one’s turning anyone down. All I see is a silly little girl playing silly little games.”

Placing a palm on his chest, I wear a mocking smile. “And all I see is a deluded man. It’s not happening again. End of story.” Whipping from under his arm, I take a couple of paces and pull open the door. “I hope the restaurant accepts tables for one.”

All dayI’ve swung back and forth, cursing and congratulating myself for turning Jensen down for lunch. He said he wanted to talk, but it’s obvious what he’s really after—proving to me that I can’t resist him.

Well, Kate Monroe has more willpower than that.

My meal for one pings in the microwave, and I throw a tossed salad onto my plate to accompany the lasagna. Appetizing. But when you work until almost eight in the evening each night, getting home and cooking a gourmet meal is far less appealing.

Especially when it’s just for yourself.

I’ve been avoiding Tom all day, but I can’t put it off any longer, so as I take a seat on my couch, my plate balancing on my knee, I tap out a reply.

Me

Hey, I’m fine. I just don’t have a lot to say. I hope you’re doing okay.

Very vanilla.

A response comes through in seconds.

Tom

I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard. I don’t want things to end between us.

I wish I didn’t have to hurt him.

I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know I don’t want to try again.

I set my phone down and begin flicking through channels.

Are you still coming to Marissa and Brad’s engagement party in September?

I pinch my brows together. Why is he asking that?