“Good point.” Zach was already pulling out his phone. “We’ll swap.”
She should protest. Point out the entire suggestion was ludicrous and contrived. And she might have, if she didn’t like the sound of it so much. Rae agreed, and moments later, Zach’s number was nested among all the others in her contact list.
Chloe slid back into more random conversation with Jordan. Rae was wondering whether or not she should bail when her phone buzzed. An excuse. She didn’t know if she was relieved or not.
Her indecision grew when she saw the text from Zach. Had to check.
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. He thought she might have given him a fake number? She couldn’t hide her smile when she met his gaze. He shrugged and nodded at her hand. Seconds later her phone buzzed again.
Can we talk?
Her fingers twitched over the touch screen, but she didn’t type a reply. It was bad enough he was doing this in the middle of lunch—and she might have been bothered, if part of her brain wasn’t acting like a giddy child on too much sugar—she wasn’t going to encourage him.
She gave him what she hoped was a questioning look.
And seconds later she received another message. After lunch? Away from other ears?
Even if she wanted to tell him no, curiosity wouldn’t let her. She gave him a slight nod.
Chloe looked at his phone and then at him. “If you have places you need to be, we won’t be offended if you bail.”
Zach pocketed the device. “I have to wait for the other party to be free anyway.”
Rae exhaled softly at the intense blue eyes almost searing into her. She needed to calm down.
This wasn’t a big deal.
Chapter Five
After lunch, Rae told her sister she just wanted to duck in and say hi to Scott. She wasn’t sure why she lied, but the flutter in her chest told her to keep this between her and Zach for now.
Her flip-flopping stomach made her grateful she didn’t finish her salad. Zach emerged from his office just a few feet away, and she froze, heart slamming into her ribcage. He looked good. Better than good. Delicious might be a better word. He raised an eyebrow when he saw her.
She swallowed, not sure what to say. He was just the guy her friends worked with. It wasn’t as if he mattered to her personally. The her of the past may have been madly in love with him, but current her had her own life, needs, and expectations. She wouldn’t let a couple of winks and soft touches muddy the distinction between then and now.
He nodded toward his door, speaking before she could figure out what to say. “You have time now?”
“Sure.” She let out a tiny breath—at least she had kept her voice steady—and followed him.
He shut the door behind her. “For privacy. I hope that’s okay.”
She nodded and took the chair across from his desk. For as brilliant as his programmers were, they could be some of the most immature gossips and children when they found an excuse. Whatever this was about, she didn’t need it to be their excuse.
What was this about?
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” She studied the decor. It was actually as boring as the front lobby: straight out of a catalog, from the black leather chairs to the primary colored modern art decorating the walls. The only hint of personality was a single photo frame on the back part of his desk. Even in the half-angle view she recognized Scott and him with copies of their very first game.
“It does the job.” Instead of sitting, he leaned back against the desk, legs extended and crossed at the ankles. It kept him less than a foot away.
She forced her gaze to his face. There was no reason to study the way his crossed arms accentuated a slender but firm chest. “So…”
“This has to stop.”
“You’ll have to elaborate.”
“I’m sorry about dragging you through the wringer on Sunday. You didn’t deserve that.” He drummed the fingers of his right hand on his left arm. “After all this time, I don’t even know why we’re holding onto any animosity.”
She could point out they’d already gone through this and apologized. Tell him it wasn’t about animosity, because she didn’t have the type of feelings for him that made her notice whether or not there was friction between them. A whisper of something less defiant pointed her in a different direction. He knew the air wasn’t clear, regardless of what either of them said, and she’d been over him for years, so why were they masking old wounds trying to gouge them out at the same time? “You might have a point.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up. “Did you just tell me I was right about something?”
Her apprehension mingled with light amusement. “Rumor is you’re right about a lot of things.”
s“And we really can’t avoid each other forever.” He reached for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket but dropped his hand at the last minute.
“I’d rather not anyway. So what do we do about it?”