Page 58 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Corbin

I had to excuse myself when Sophia walked into Andi’s office. Her bare legs asked for my fingers to skim along the surface of her smooth skin.

To find out what she wore under that skirt.

My fingers tapped wildly on my desk as I tried to focus on the month-end review of November actuals.

My computer let out a systematic beep—the sound of the server booting me out for the umpteenth time. I nearly tossed my laptop across the room.

Between the system issues and my pent-up frustration s, I was about to snap.

I stormed down the hall looking for Susan or Andi, but neither of them were in their offices.

Come to think of it, the entire floor was oddly quiet.

“They all left.” Sophia’s voice cut through the silence. She sat in her office, eyeing me through the tiny glass window near her door.

I casually strode over and leaned in her doorway, eyeing her neatly organized stacks of papers and pastel-colored sticky notes. She had a cup of perfectly color-coordinated highlighters and pens tidily arranged.

“It’s two o’clock, where are they?” I asked, disgruntled.

She shrugged. “I guess they wanted to go enjoy the sunshine.”

I made a fist and rested it on the doorframe. “I’m kicked out of the server. Andi usually helps me get back in.”

“Oh, I can help.” She walked from behind her desk toward a tiny filing cabinet in the corner of her office .

I noticed she was barefoot, her heels discarded in the corner. The sight of the light pink polish on her toes reminded me of the hours together in my apartment—our agreement to wear scraps of clothing, the way my hoodie barely covered her ass, and how I felt seeing her in it.

I waved the memory away like a cloud of smoke.

That was then, and this is now. Though I hadn’t washed that hoodie since.

She handed me a Post-it with a series of letters and symbols written on it.

“What do I do with this?” I asked.

She lifted her brows and grinned in amusement. “That’s the password. You type it in for the server access.”

“What do I do with this?” I asked again.

She laughed and crossed her arms. “I thought you were some bigshot executive. You’re telling me you don’t know how to log into the server?”

“What does one thing have to do with the other?”

“C’mon. I’ll help you.” She took the sticky note from me and motioned for me to follow—her bare feet padding on the tiled floor.

It was highly unprofessional, but it was just her and me here, and I enjoyed seeing as much of her skin as possible, so I let it slide.

I trailed behind her, basking in the relief that no one was here to see me stare at her ass.

She pulled my chair from the desk and leaned over, clicking my mouse and then typing on the keyboard.

I slid onto the chair beside her, rolling close, my shoulder grazing hers.

She stiffened and glanced at me. A playful smile formed on her lips, accompanied by a lecturing look in her eyes.

“What? I need to see how you do it.” I shrugged innocently.

“Hm,” she huffed, unconvinced, but she continued typing anyway.

She was right to be skeptical. I wasn’t paying any attention to the server access. Her scent pulled me in, her body too tempting to ignore.

I had been restless without her, my mind drifting to thoughts of her constantly. My apartment was off balance without her in it— cold, lonely, quiet. Phantom memories of her clung to every surface, making the weekends feel hollow and lonely without her presence.

I spent week after week in Misty Springs, away from my responsibilities back in New York, despite the board circling like sharks. The pull to be here—near her—was too great.

I leaned back in my leather chair, my eyes skimming the back of her legs, roaming over the smooth skin until my gaze reached the hem of her skirt.

When she was bent over like that, it fell just inches below her ass. My fingers twitched at the desire to slide underneath the plaid pattern.

After weeks of telling myself no—of pushing against her like waves crashing against a crumbling wall—my resolve finally eroded.

And I gave in.