But Aidan also wears deodorant that clashes with his cologne.
I caught a whiff of Ronan when he sat at our table. He smelled sort of woodsy and clean.
I need to stop thinking about Ronan, especially while I’m trying to work out how I feel about Aidan. Because my relationship with Aidan—whatever it is, and wherever it’s going—has nothing to do with Ronan. I can’t let it have anything to do with Ronan. Regardless of whether I keep seeing Aidan, Ronan is the absolute worst kind of man for me. He’s everything I’m trying to stay away from: rich, arrogant … and yes, excruciatingly handsome.
But he also slept with me and blew me off, so I don’t even have to wonder what sort of man he really is. There’s no telling myself he might be a good guy under that confident and aggressive exterior. I’ve been to the show, and seen behind the curtain.
He’s just another bad boy, and that is the last thing I need.
6: Ronan
I head into the office early. Yesterday’s meetings took up more of my time than I anticipated, and I have a lot to catch up on. There’s a coffee shop in the lobby of the building, so I veer in that direction before going upstairs. Even at seven in the morning, there’s a line.
When I get closer, I spot her. Selene. Dressed in a white blouse and blue skirt, she’s hard to miss. Her back is to me and I take a moment to appreciate her. Fuck, those legs. I love that she still wears heels, even though she’s so tall. There’s an I don’t give a fuck quality about a tall woman in heels, like she’s daring the men of the world to judge her for being able to look them in the eye. Or look down on them, as the case may be.
I’m tall enough that she won’t look down on me, even in those hot shoes. Unless she’s straddling me, in which case I welcome the angle.
It’s no particular surprise to run into her in the lobby of our building, but I was surprised to see her at the restaurant last night. She was obviously with a date, but there was no way I could leave without talking to her. Catching her off guard was perfect. I saw the surprise on her face when I approached her table, but she still had plenty of sharp comebacks.
The guy doesn’t concern me. I watched them for a while before she saw me, and it looked a lot like an awkward first, possibly second, date. Even if it’s not, he doesn’t mean anything to Selene. That much was clear. I won’t have any trouble getting past that little hurdle.
There are other reasons Selene is going to be a challenge—but fuck, I love a challenge. That must be why I can’t get her out of my head.
She gets to the front of the line and orders, then stands to the side to wait for her coffee. Another woman waiting strikes up a conversation with her. Selene’s caught up chatting and doesn’t appear to notice me. It gives me a chance to watch her. Her clothes are tasteful, but anything would look sexy as fuck on that body. Her hair is up, showing the soft curve of her neck. She smiles at the other woman, nodding as she replies. She really is exceptional. It’s hard to believe that, five years later, she’s still single. I would have thought some asshole would have managed to get a ring on her finger by now.
Luckily for me, no one has.
I place my order and walk over to stand next to her.
“Morning,” I say.
She looks at me, her eyes a little wide. I startled her. Good. I like keeping her off balance.
“Good morning.” She glances back at the woman she was talking to, but I seem to have stopped their conversation in its tracks. “Do you need something?” she asks.
“Other than you, alone in my office?” I ask.
Her lips part and her eyes flick to the other woman. “Ronan.”
“What?” I ask. “Did you think I was hitting on you with that comment?”
The barista calls a name and the woman stares at me with an open mouth for a second before she goes to get her coffee.
Selene says goodbye and turns back to me. “Yes, the thought did occur to me.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I was definitely hitting on you.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“I just want to make sure I’m being clear,” I say.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Would you prefer I play games with you?” I ask.
“I’d prefer it if you keep things professional,” she says.
The barista calls her name and she grabs her coffee. I think about abandoning my order and riding up the elevator with her, but I decide not to push her quite that hard. Yet.
I spend the rest of the day getting caught up and putting things away in my office. I don’t like clutter where I work. It’s too distracting.