Page 32 of Forbidden You

“Peachy,” I reply with a tight jaw.

She presses her lips together, clearly not buying my shit, then tilts her head in skepticism. “Really? Because you seem stressed.”

You have no idea, babe.

“I’ll be alright.”

She saunters toward me with a list of documents pressed against her chest. Her hips sway, effortlessly bringing out her gorgeous curves. I raise my chin, forcing myself to look at her face in an attempt to stick to my plan.

She’s afriend, McKay. Fucking get it together.

“I just did some research on your foundation.”

I quirk an eyebrow in interest, silently wondering why she didn’t just ask. My connection with the foundation is usually the first thing people ask about when they find out about the cause it supports.

She shrugs, as if she can read my response. “You never really disclosed what the foundation is about, and I wanted to know what cause I’m working for.”

“Understandable,” I hum.

“Your mom was a drug addict?”

“She was,” I muse.

“So, now you created a foundation that builds low-cost rehab facilities with private level care?” I can see the pride in her eyes, and it hits me right in the heart.

I nod.

“That’s amazing, Bodi. It’s really a good cause.”

“Thank you.” Our eyes stay fixed, the tension rising again. Her blue eyes rob me of whatever bullshit friends thought I had just thirty seconds again, and the sparkle that flickers through them tells me she knows it. It’s like we can have a complete conversation without uttering a single word, every small feature in our face telling us exactly what we need to know.

Whatever she and I had, it’s far from over. At some point, one of us is going to break and annoyingly aware of the twitching in my pants, I have a feeling it’s going to be me. Hopefullyaftershe moves into her own apartment, so we can at least keep this somewhat less complicated by becoming roommates/collegues/fuckbuddies.

“Do you need anything?” I ask to break the spell.

She clears her throat, then takes the seat in front of my desk to hand me a piece of paper. Leaning forward, I grab it, letting my eyes roam over the words.

“What is this?”

“I know you asked me to contact all the suppliers to confirm the date and everything.” She pauses. “But I’ve been bold.”

My eyes snap up to her face, and I’m met by that contagious smirk. The one that makes me remember why she annoys me and turns me on at the same time with her unfazed behavior.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” I mutter, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Hear me out. You want to keep the costs as low as possible, right? It’s a charity thing. But at the same time, you want it to look exclusive and luxurious, so you want to hire the best caterer, for example.”

She better have not.“Please tell me you didn’t cancel my caterer?”

“I didn’t. But I threatened to go to the next one on the list because he was charging way too much.”

“You what?” My eyes grow wide at her deadpan expression. “That’s the best caterer in the city! Do you know how much begging it took me to get him to agree on that date?”

“He was charging way too much, Bodi!”

I fucking know that, but there’s a reason he’s the best. If I want to invite the elite of this city — hell, the elite of the East coast — I need to organize an event that will have people jumping on planes and out of their mansions.

I just blink.

---