He nodded. “Tonight was nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out at home.”
Something about that statement jogged me out of my little bubble of bliss. This guy lived and breathed his job. Not that I didn’t work unhealthy hours, too, but this cut way too close to home. It was bad enough I was infatuated with him, but I saw firsthand what happened with relationships with workaholics. Secret families weren’t a high risk with Brogan, but he was kind of married to his job. The experience with my dad was enough to give me pause. But I was getting way ahead of myself, because this wasn’t heading that direction. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy doing a personal inventory of every muscle on his body.
“Anytime.” I backtracked. “I mean…” I sighed. I really needed to work on thinking before I spoke in front of him. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I do.”
“I should be going. Thanks for listening. I feel a lot better.” Even though the stress of everything going on with my mom would likely flood back as soon as I got back to my apartment, it was nice to have a short reprieve.
Just as I stood, he cleared his throat and held up a hand. “I’ll walk you out.” He pushed up from the couch, and the muscles in his biceps bunched together in the most delicious of ways. It took a moment of channeled concentration to fight back the urge to violate at least ten rules in his damn employee manual.
He ushered me to the elevator, locking Bruce in the apartment. I turned to face him after I hit the down button. Just inches apart from him, I had to crane my neck to look at his face. If I took one step forward, our bodies would press flush against each other, and my hands would be forced to splay against his chest. Something that I’d like. A lot.
His eyes searched mine with a softness that stole the air from my lungs. This new side of Brogan, with the joking and laughing…I wanted it to continue. But starting at seven on Monday, things would go back to normal—professional colleagues. Ones that nodded in the hallways and said a polite hello as they passed. The way it was supposed to be.
“I—” He breathed the word, like an exhale. He lifted his hand, inches from my cheek when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. His hand dropped to his side, and he pressed his lips together.
What?? I wanted to scream. He couldn’t just leave me hanging like that. Surely he had something insightful to say. Such as I want to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my condo and do unspeakable, delicious things to your body, or I think your excessive babbling and breaking into my apartment is sort of cute and am glad I hired you.
“I’ll see you Monday.” He gave a nod and then proceeded to pat me on the shoulder.
What the hell just happened? Did I…just get rejected?
I did a quick mental inventory of the various types.
Levels of rejection:
Full-on rejection: dude swiping left on your Tinder pic. Burn.
Semi-rejection: guy suddenly going dark on social media after a date. Rude.
Quasi-rejection: trespassing into your boss’s apartment, forcing him to watch your favorite movie, and ending the night with a friendly pat on the shoulder in the same manner as someone consoling a kid who lost a t-ball game. Off-putting but understandable. Right?
I stepped into the elevator, ignoring this odd sting of quasi-rejection. “Bright and early.”
The elevator doors shut, and I leaned against the rail and stared at my flushed face in the mirrored panel. I was in so much trouble.
Chapter Eleven
Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #32
If you don’t want to board a train to Crazy Town, stop trying to read into things. Seriously, stop.
Zoey was in the middle of the living room on a yoga mat, posing in a sun salutation when I woke up. Jitters was belly-up on the couch, waiting for me to scratch his tummy as I passed him to grab my laptop.
“How’s your upward froggy pose?”
“This is cobra. And it wouldn’t hurt you to try this, you know.” She curved her spine and splayed her arms straight out on the mat, going into what I thought was a child’s pose. In college, I’d joined her in a yoga class and ended up falling asleep in that very position. Best sleep I ever had. Which was quickly interrupted by the instructor telling me to Namaste the hell out of her class. “Did you know that people in desk jobs are eighty percent more likely to get blood clots?”
I moved toward the kitchen, grabbed my cuddle mug and poured a full cup of coffee. “And did you know that I’m 100 percent closer to dying each day I live?”
She let out a deep belly breath and shook her head. “I really adore your stubbornness sometimes.”
“It’s one of my many endearing qualities.” I smiled sweetly at her.
“Yeah, yeah.” She continued with her yoga poses as Jitters eyed her? his tail playfully swatting the couch cushion.
“I’m going home this weekend to see my mom. You able to hold down the fort?”