Page 53 of The Thing About My Rival

Of course I kissed her. I would have been bonkers not to. How could anyone resist a woman like this? It’s taking all my strength and willpower to resist her now. And, oh holy shit, I hate myself for not remembering it.

“What did it feel like?”

Her shoulders slump as she sighs. “If you can’t remember, I don’t think?—”

I bend my knees so I can peer under her dropped gaze. “I want to know, Wilcox.” She refuses to look at me. “I want to know what kissing you feels like. But I can’t remember. So tell me what it felt like to you.”

Her eyes drift shut, almost like she’s trying to suppress the memory.

But then the tip of her tongue peeks out and runs between her lips, like she’s tasting me all over again.

A second later, her eyes snap open like she’s immediately shoved the memory into a vault at the back of her mind and locked it away forever.

“It was just a kiss in a club between two drunk people. One of them clearly a lot more drunk than the other.” She lifts her head enough for me to see her raised eyebrows.

“But it didn’t end with that one kiss at the table, did it?” My desire for her churns with the exasperation of knowing she knows exactly what happened but is refusing to tell me. “How the hell did we get in the cupboard?”

She chews at the corner of her mouth, like she’s trying to suppress a smile. “Never in a million years did I think I would ever be in a dark empty pub, with Hugo freaking Powers asking me how we ended up in a French closet together.”

Okay, I can join her in a joke, if it will help makeprogress. “Was it a nice closet? Like, full of Parisian design, and croissants, and Monet paintings?”

“It was ajanitor’scloset. Do you really not even remember that?” The hurt in her voice is obvious, even to a jerk like me.

Who knew shame could feel like a bulldozer driving over you, crushing you? “Sadly not.”

“God knows how. You almost put your foot in a bucket at one point.”

“At what point was that?” I have never experienced frustration like this in my life. Part of me wants to shake her until all the details spill out. Another part wants to kiss her so hard she comes just from my tongue on hers. “What were we doing?”

She takes a step back, recoiling from my raised voice, brows pinched. “Why are you trying to make me tell you this?”

“Because it’s driving me crazy that I can’t remember.” My hands claw at the air between us. “I’ve racked my brain as hard as I can, but it’s all patchy in here.” I jab at the side of my head.

“But why is it so important to you?”

Now that’s a question.

And all the potential answers are too terrifying to contemplate.

Not liking her knowing something about me that I don’t know? Makes me a dick.

Feelings for Wilcox? Intolerable.

Feelings for Wilcox that go beyond wanting to rip off her track pants? Catastrophic.

“Why do you have all the questions and no answers?” I push my hands through my hair, my pulse rising. “Whywon’t you tell me? Is there a reason you don’t want me to know?”

She squeezes the keys, her knuckles turning white. “It’s probably the only advantage I’ll ever have over you.”

“What?” Is that really how she sees herself? Somehow inferior to me? Christ, this woman is a hundred thousand times the person I am.

I instinctively rest my hand on her shoulder. It instantly calms me. I can only hope it makes her feel better too. Because if she doesn’t understand how fucking brilliant she is, then there is something very, very wrong.And I’m happy to take on the job of explaining it to her.

“Don’t you dare think that. I can’t make those performance charts you make. I can’t remember all the staff’s names, never mind their birthdays. And no one likes me anywhere near as much as they like you.”

When her head drops, it’s all I can do to stop myself from nudging my thumb under her chin and tipping her face up to look at me. “Come on, Wilcox. Level the playing field. Tell me what we did.”

Turns out my thumb wasn’t necessary. Her head slowly lifts until her eyes, gentler now, are scanning my face. “Will you promise not to say anything stupid?”

---