Page 25 of Show Off

“Yummy.”

I should say something, right? “I wasn’t eavesdropping on your call.”

“Okay.” It’s not clear from her face if she believes me.

“Your door was ajar, but I wasn’t intentionally listening to you talk about your sex life.”Shut up, Dal. “I meannottalk about it. With your mom.”

Her smile’s getting tighter, and I know I’ve touched a nerve.

“It’s fine.” Her voice sounds so perky I nearly believe her. “Just family stuff, you know?”

“Yeah.” Boy, do I know. “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

I should get back to the kitchen. “Got a second?”

“Sure.” Her eyes dart to her office. “Did you want to speak in private?”

Those words feel laced with meaning. I clear my throat, needing to set the record straight. “I didn’t come here hoping to fuck on your desk, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

If she’s shocked, she doesn’t show it. “That’s good.” She doesn’t flinch at all. “I don’t enjoy papercuts on my ass.”

Fighting a smile, I pull a spoon from my pocket. “Here. You can eat while we talk.”

“Thanks.” Her fingers brush mine as she plucks the utensil from my grip. As she floats through her office, my fingers tingle where we touched.

As soon as I get the door shut, I take a seat. “I came to say I’m sorry about last night.” Not just last night, either.

“Which part?” She digs in and starts devouring the dessert. “The part where you felt me up, or the part where you freaked out when I touched your tat?”

“Kissing you.” Though now that I think of it, I should apologize for the rest of that. “It was a mistake. I crossed a line and I’m sorry.”

Lana looks at me with clear blue eyes. “I straddled your lap and tore off your T-shirt like I owned it. If lines were crossed, we’re both responsible.”

“Still.” This isn’t going how I’d hoped. I’m distracted by her tongue darting out to lick a dab of pudding off her lip. “We have to work together. I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“You realize that’s the premise of the show, right?” She shoves her spoon in the cup again. “Strangers couple up and we catch it on film.”

“Should I have brought a camera crew with me last night?”

Her smirk makes me wish I’d brought three more desserts. “That might make it tough to pretend it didn’t happen.” Blue eyes hold mine, searching my soul. It’s hard not to squirm. “Your tattoo. It’s your family’s company logo.”

I guess looking up Korean pronunciations wasn’t the only task on Lana’s to-do list. “Correct.” I don’t owe her more, so why do I blurt the rest? “It’s covering the scar I got in the accident.”

Myonlyfucking scar. Our parents died. My brother lost feeling from the waist down. I got a fuckingowie.How pathetic is that?

“I see,” she says, and I wonder what she sees. Something not great, since she relents and shifts the subject. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to make out with me?”

I flinch. “When did you turn blunt?”

“Maybe I’m learning from you.”

That’s doubtful. I consider pretending there’s no other reason, but bluntness got me this far. Might as well go all in.

“I dated a foodie influencer.”

“Cherri Chiffon.” Her eyes don’t leave mine. “I know.”

---