Page 76 of The Secrets We Share

His office door is closed, but the faint light spilling under the floorboards leaves a soft glow, letting me know I’ve found him. I draw in a steading breath and push the door open. He’s typing away at something on his screen, and his eyes don’t lift as I enter, but he knows I’m here.

“Come here, sweetness.”

My hesitant steps lead me around to his side, and I lower myself to the desk’s top. He keeps working at whatever has his attention, his fingers flying as the keys clack into the quiet night.The wait only serves to draw out my anxiety. I pick at my nail beds, focused intently on the dry skin there.

The sound stops, and his office chair spins toward me before he drags me into his lap.

“Oof.”

“How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, but nothing the pain pills aren’t covering, so ignore the loopiness.”

Chuckling, he nuzzles into my hair. His warm hands skate up my naked thighs, sending heat racing to my core. It’d be so easy to forget why I came searching for him and let him distract me with his wicked ways.

“We should talk.”

“It’s a little late for that, sweetness.”

My body tenses at his words. This will lead to another fight, and if I’m not careful, I’ll find myself locked up and unable to do what I need tomorrow.

“Relax and look.”

He slides the chair back in front of the monitors, and I take in the mix of information displayed across multiple screens. For the most part, it’s a bunch of meaningless code. My brain doesn’t recognize the patterns and queues like his would.

“What am I looking at?”

“Your contact.”

“Wait, you figured out who it was? How?”

“I had a hunch and followed it.”

“And?” I ask.

“It’s going to be a wild ride later today.”

“Oh, now, you think it’s a good idea?” I snark back.

“Now that I know it’s not someone on the inside trying to fuck you over. Yeah.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“Right back at ya, sweetness.”

I’m quiet for a minute, trying to make heads from tails on the information he’s left up on the screen. I don’t see anything that would give away who the contact was. Letters and numbers mix and run the screen too quickly to catch most of it.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?”

“I think it’s best if you don’t know.”

I turn and resituate in his lap to search his eyes for the truth. I kept this from him because I was scared of his reaction, but maybe it’s finally time to admit to myself that Harkin will always put me first. If he thinks it’s best for me not to know, that must mean knowing will fuck up my concentration and possibly send me off the handle.

Great,another thing to unravel.

“You should get some sleep,” I tell him.

The dark bags under his eyes only bring out the red rimming his irises from straining on the screens for who knows how long.

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