Page 18 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)

Julian

I stop at a red light, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. My mind is already tangled in thoughts of Celeste and that meeting last week.

That woman is going to be the death of me. I’m sure of it.

When she walked into my conference room that day, she decided to play dirty with a button too low on her blouse and a dangerous gleam in her eyes. By the time she crouched in front of me, pretending to reach for a dropped pen while mouthing a single word— Sir —I knew she’d declared war.

I’ve been battling my cock ever since.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale hard. I need Mateo’s gym more than ever. One round with the heavy bag. Maybe ten.

I need distractions.

I’m staring out the window in search of one when a flash of movement draws my attention. Someone running. A woman.

I straighten up, eyes narrowing, because that isn’t just any woman.

My gaze locks onto the curve of her ass, bouncing with each stride in leggings that cling like a second skin. Her hoodie is pulled up around her ears, and her dark hair is swinging in a ponytail.

What the actual fuck.

Heat pulses through me—a mix of irritation and something more possessive—as I watch Celeste jog past two drunk idiots staggering home from whatever shithole bar finally kicked them out. They eye her like she’s their next meal, wolf-whistling and laughing.

She keeps running, hardly noticing them.

My hands tighten around the steering wheel until my knuckles whiten.

Jesus Christ, is she serious? Running alone at this hour through this neighborhood?

I shouldn’t care. She’s not my responsibility.

But when the light turns green, instead of going left toward the gym, my foot slams the gas, and I make a sharp right, directly toward her.

I pull ahead, tires screeching as I cut in front of her.

For a second, raw fear flashes across her face .

Good. Maybe it will scare some sense into her.

Shoving my door open, I storm toward her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing?” she snaps as she pulls her earbuds from her ears and stuffs them in her hoodie pocket. “Are you following me?”

Sweat glistens on her hairline, and her flushed face makes my jaw tighten for reasons that go beyond irritation.

“What? No. I was on my way—Fuck it. That’s not the point.” I gesture at the deserted street. “What are you doing out here at ass-o’clock in the morning, running through a neighborhood practically begging to kill you?”

She scoffs. “I’m running, not inviting serial killers to brunch.”

“You might as well be.” My voice drops lower, edged in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

She jabs a finger toward my chest. “It’s a free country. I’m a grown woman who runs at this time every single day. Look—” She throws her arms wide. “Still alive.”

“Those assholes back there would have followed you home if they were even slightly less shitfaced.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “Do I look like some delicate flower to you?”

“You look like a woman running alone in the dark with zero concept of self-preservation.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, still glaring at me.

“You’re fine? Great. That’s good, Celeste. Just get yourself killed after you finish building my headquarters.”

Her mouth falls open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Until that building’s up, your life is my concern, so stop taking unnecessary risks.”

“Unnecessary—” She sputters, gaping at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You know what, Julian? Bite me.”

“I already did.” Yeah, I know that’s the wrong thing to say the second it leaves my mouth.

She storms past me, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, with steam practically rising off her as she quickens her pace.

I dig my teeth into my knuckles just to stop myself from shouting after her.

“This fucking woman,” I grit out, running a hand over my face before stalking back to my car.

I start the engine, ready to turn back toward the gym, but my eyes lock onto her figure, fading in the distance.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, switching off the turn signal and driving slowly after her.

Like hell I’m leaving her out here alone.

Not on my watch, stubborn woman.

It takes her a few minutes to notice the car creeping up behind her, but when she does, she yanks out her earbuds again and spins around, eyes blazing.

“Why the hell are you following me?”

I roll down the window. “You want to run? Fine. Run. But do it fast. Standing here arguing is wasting time, and you’ll make us both late.”

Her mouth opens like she’s about to tear into me again, but something flashes in her eyes before she sighs, shoves her earbuds back in, and resumes running without another word.

The sun starts to rise a while later, but I still trail her from a safe distance.

Part of me wants to floor the gas, drive off, and pretend I don’t give a damn. But the more dangerous part can’t look away from the curve of her hips or the determined set of her shoulders.

Eventually, she slows down and stops at a coffee shop tucked neatly beside an apartment building. She goes inside and comes out a few minutes later with a steaming cup, her dark ponytail swinging behind her as she heads toward the apartment complex entrance.

“I’ll see you in—” I call out to her before I look at the time on the dash. “Five hours. I do believe you’re my eleven o’clock meeting. Word of advice, though?”

She slows, arching a brow like she’s bracing for whatever’s coming next.

“Maybe check the buttons on your blouse before you walk into my boardroom next time. Half my team nearly flatlined.”

She pauses just long enough to wiggle her fingers at me, a sugary-sweet smile spreading across her face, but it only lasts a second before her expression twists and she flips me off, vanishing inside without a backward glance.

I bark out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as I stare at the empty doorway.

Well. Good fucking morning to you, too, Celeste.