“Hey back,” I hear myself say, suddenly glad there’s no one else in the break room.
Dude. No. Wake the fuck up. I have a plan. A speech, actually. It starts with, “Joni, thank you for coming to my game last night,” and ends with, “And that’s why it’s best if we are just friends.” But I can’t for the life of me remember the middle part.
Just friends? Force myself to be around her all the time, staring at that body, watching those lips, laughing at whatever happy-making thing she’s saying or doing, but no more kissing? No chance for anything else? Jesus Christ, man, haven’t you been through enough torture?
“Well…” she says, blowing her hair out of her eye. Her lower lip juts out a little with the motion, and next thing I know, that lip is between my own, and I have Joni pressed up against the wall next to the break room door. She matches my intensity point-for-point, and our hands are everywhere. I know she feels my boner pressing against her hip, but I’m too lost in her to be embarrassed.
Joni runs her hands through my hair like she did last night, and it feels so good, like her fingertips are working delicious magic and pushing all the negative energy out through the ends of my hair.
She tastes like Skittles today.
We break apart for air but hold each other’s gazes, breathing heavily.
I hook a finger into her belt loop and pull her hips close to mine while one of my other fingers traces the line where the top of her pants meets the bottom of her shirt. I graze her stomach skin, but she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move away. Doesn’t react at all, really. She just stares into my eyes, trusting, almost challenging, as if she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I take that challenge.
I turn my hand so my palm is flat against her stomach, my fingers pointing down, and inch them slowly, meeting the top of her jeans and plunging farther, underneath the fabric. The farther down my hand travels, the more labored Joni’s breathing becomes—her chest is rising and falling visibly now.
But I don’t stop.
I can’t believe this is happening. At work. At all.
She’s so fucking sexy. How did I not see it from day one?
Joni makes everything better.
She makes it easy to forget.
I close the gap between us and kiss her with everything I have. Everything the old Ryden had. Everything I had no idea was still in me. She wraps her arms around me, slipping her tongue into my mouth, hitching one leg around my ass as I loosen her belt and undo the button of her jeans for easier access. My breath catches as the tips of my fingers hit the point of no return and Joni lets out a soft, encouraging moan.
And then the door swings open, hitting my back, making me lose my balance and stumble into her, which of course makes her lose her footing, since she was standing on one leg to begin with. I catch a glimpse of her horror and panic as she turns toward the corner to right her clothing. I can’t ask her if she’s okay because I need to deal with the fucker who just interrupted the best damn moment I’ve had in months.
Some dude from the seafood department walks to the fridge, looking at us over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, a smart-ass, know-it-all grin on his stupid face.
I don’t know what exactly he saw, but this isn’t good. I need this job. I can’t get fired. “Oh, hey, man,” I say as coolly as I can. I shove my hands in my pockets in an attempt to hide the evidence of what we were just doing. “We were, uh…I was checking Joni for ticks. She…went camping last night. Lyme disease is serious stuff, ya know? Can never be too careful.” God, I’m a fucking loser.
The seafood guy grabs an iced tea from the fridge and heads back to the door, shaking his head and chuckling. “Whatever, man.” He leans in close as he passes. “Nice work.” He holds his hand out for a fist bump, which I return after a few seconds. Anything to get him out of here. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He winks and leaves.
I turn back to Joni. She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, all traces of her earlier daringness gone.
I gently put my hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
She nods, staring at the floor. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look fine. Don’t worry—he’s not going to tell anyone. I don’t think he saw much anyway.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking, climbing all over you like that here, where anyone could walk in at any time. After everything that’s been going on at school, why the hell would I invite that same shit into the place where I work?” Her voice is hard.
She’s right. I shouldn’t have let it go as far as it did, especially knowing what she’s been through lately. “I’m sorry, Joni.”