“Honestly, Gemma. Do you mind? I’m trying to complete the quarterly budget,” Lavinia says tersely. “You’ve been coughing half the day.”
I blush, then, “Sorry. I’ve got a tickle in my…throat.” I clear my throat to emphasize the problem. Lavinia frowns at me and turns back to her computer monitor.
I shift and try to sink down in my seat so there’s no friction or rubbing happening down there. Now I see why Hannah jumped her husband three times a day. Heck, I’d jump a stranger, or possibly a coat rack if it’d help me get off.
I look over at Ian’s office. He’s out for the day, doing a press event in Soho. I squirm in my seat and another zing zips through me.
My cell phone vibrates loudly and I dig it out of my purse. It’s Josh.
“Hello,” I say in a quiet voice.
Lavinia glares at me.
“Hey, Gemma. It’s Josh. What’re you up to?” He’s voice sounds a little tinny, and I can hear a lot of street noise in the background.
“I’m at work,” I whisper. “What’s up?”
“I’m at my place in Williamsburg. I thought I’d call and see how it’s going.” The sound of his call gets clearer and his voice comes across all deep and rumbly. And I’ll be darned if it doesn’t hit me right there.
I let out a little squeak, then cough to cover it. I glance at Lavinia but she’s ignoring me.
“It’s going. It’s fine.” I press my lips together.
“Do you want to hang out tonight?” he asks, and the tenor of his voice vibrates through all the places down there.
“Just a sec,” I say. I stand quickly, look around the office, then take quick, mincing steps toward the bathroom. Each step my thighs rub together and there’s a little jolt of pleasure. When I get to the bathroom I shut the door and lock it. “You’re in the city?” I ask him. I lean into the sink and look in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are horny.
“I’m in Brooklyn. Do you want to do something tonight? I figure the transfer’s soon, we could hang out before—”
“I’ve got an ultrasound appointment today. Do you want to come?” I ask. Then I look at my reflection in surprise. “What are you doing?” I mouth to myself in the mirror. I just look back at myself, completely unapologetic.
Ridiculous. These hormones have made me insane.
Josh pauses, then, “Yeah. Okay.” Another pause, then, “Hey, you sound kind of funny. You sure you’re alright?”
I run the cold water and splash it over my face.
“It’s been a day. Can you get here in like twenty minutes?”
“No problem. See you soon.”
Fifteen minutes later I’m standing outside my office building waiting for Josh. I wave to him when I see him down the block, just past Zamir’s metal coffee cart. It’s the end of January, and still bitterly cold. Dirty gray snow is piled on the curbs and large salt crystals interspersed with slush coat the sidewalks. The exhaust from a city bus chugging by hangs in the dry cold air, then disappears on a rush of wind.
Today, Josh has on his winter coat, hat and gloves. His pace picks up when he sees me and he lifts his hand in hello.
I smile at that and pull my coat around me a little tighter.
He grins when he gets to me, “Playing hooky? It’s only three o’clock. Or am I rubbing off on you? All hail freedom from the nine to five.” I cross my legs and try to ignore the pulse of pleasure that thrums through me at the deep rumble of his voice.
“Hmm?” I ask, when I’ve got my reaction under control.
“Hooky?” he asks, and I take in his unshaven jaw and the messy hair sticking out from under his winter hat. Before, as in, less than a month ago, I would’ve taken his appearance as proof of his devil-may-care, generalized slackerness, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe his air of not caring, and finding life a joke, isn’t how he feels at all, it’s just an image he shows the world.
“What are you doing in the city?” I ask.
His eyes light up, “I was checking in on the construction at my place.”
“It’s coming along?”
He nods and puts his hands in his coat pocket. “Should be done soon. What about you? Why’re you playing hooky? Not that I object.”
If he only knew.
“Let me tell you about my day. You know the medications I have to take to stimulate my follicles?” I ask. Then I look back at the entry to my office. “Can we walk and talk?”
He nods and holds out his arm. I reach out and even through his thick coat and the sweater he has on underneath I can feel the muscles of his bicep. I stifle a soft moan.
Get a grip.
“They’ve made me…angry,” I say.
He turns and raises an eyebrow in question. We start to walk down the block, past Zamir’s delicious smelling cart (he’s cooking an egg and cheese sandwich) and head toward Central Park.
“Angry? I doubt that,” Josh laughs. And his laugh sends sparks of pleasure through my abdomen.
“I threatened a database techie today over the last lime sparkling water in the breakroom fridge,” I admit.
“Well, I mean, that’s fair. You do like lime.”
I level Josh with a stare. “I told him that if he touched the water I would infect his computer with a virus so horrible that it would haunt his grandchildren. For your information, he’s twenty-five and doesn’t have any kids yet.”
“What?” Josh starts to laugh. Then, “But you got the water, right?”
I smile then say with a shrug, “Of course I did.”
“Good. Is that it? Because even on a normal day you do crazy things for lime.”
I do not. But… “I told the office intern that if he kept omitting SEO from his blog posts, I’d curse him with the pain of ten thousand paper cuts.”
Josh looks over at me and grins. “Ouch.”
He isn’t taking this seriously. Except, now that I’m telling him about it, neither can I. “The hormones are also making me cry. At work, I tried to put together a post with a kitten hanging onto a tree limb, and I cried in the bathroom for twenty minutes.”
He snorts and then coughs to cover the sound. I jab him in his side with my elbow. He pretends to be hurt but then starts to laugh harder.