Page 23 of Selfish Suit (Steamy Latte Reads Collection #1)

THE INTERN

IVY

Several Mornings Later

I don’t remember making the agreement that we would ride to and from work together every day, and yet, despite the fact that we’re barely talking, that’s what’s happening.

And I’m slowly slacking on my apartment search, even though deep down I know this can’t last.

Every morning like clockwork, the Audi pulls up to the curb in front of the penthouse, and every night—after he finishes working like he’s singlehandedly trying to buy the moon—he’s standing in the parking garage holding the passenger door open, waiting to take me home.

He doesn’t always talk.

Sometimes he’s on calls.

Sometimes he’s answering messages.

But sometimes he just watches me. Quiet. Intense.

And even when he says nothing, his presence wraps around me like a warning.

At the apartment, he doesn’t intrude. But things shift.

There’s always hot coffee in the machine.

A charger appears next to my bed, even though I never asked for one.

Fresh towels in the guest bath. My favorite toothpaste. A drawer cleared in the vanity for my stuff.

He doesn’t say it’s for me, but it is.

The tension at the office doesn’t go away, though…

If anything, it sharpens.

He adds more to my plate, sends me tasks he could’ve given someone else, and keeps me on the floor late most nights, under the pretense of “preparation.”

Sometimes I think it’s his way of keeping me close.

Other times… I wonder if it’s his way of keeping me just far enough away.