Page 133 of Curvy Girl Summer

I’ve never gotten upset about a man not wanting me, and I won’t start with this one. He doesn’t want to date, and that’s okay. I respect his decision.

I moved to the side as the elevator opened to the next floor. Two additional people hopped on, so we were packed tight. Somehow in the shuffle to accommodate more people, Ahmad was directly behind me.

I hated that I could feel his breath on my neck.

I hated the way my body reacted to his closeness.

I hated that I could feel him without him even touching me.

When the doors opened, I was the second one out of the elevator. I’d parked close and made a beeline to my car even though I felt a presence on my heels.

“Aaliyah!” Ahmad called out.

I wanted to continue walking and ignore him, but there were too many people around, and I didn’t want to make a scene.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Oh, hey, Ahmad,” I sighed, not even trying to feign surprise as he caught up to me. “I’m sorry. I’m running late.”

“Aaliyah.”

His voice sounded resigned, and I ignored the pit in my stomach that formed at the way he’d said my name.

Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he slowed me to a stop. “Are you avoiding me?”

I inhaled sharply as the heat from his grasp spread through my arm. I hated that his touch made my pulse quicken. His fingers pressing into my skin made my panties wet.

“Of course not,” I lied quietly before lifting my gaze to meet his. “This has been a busy week. Between work, dates, and pre-party duties, I have a lot on my plate.”

“Okay, I understand.”

“And I really can’t be late today…”

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of looking him in his eyes before I opened my car door. Seeing part of the bandage peeking from below his short-sleeved shirt, I felt compelled to speak. “Are you feeling any better?” I gestured to his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a short grunt.

I nodded. “Good.”

I hopped in my car, started it up, and drove toward the parking garage exit like I was being chased. When I glanced in the rearview mirror, I saw him waiting for the elevator. I exhaled loudly and then put on my seat belt.

“Okay,” I muttered under my breath.

Just being in the confined space with him felt like it was too much too soon. But overall, I felt like I handled the situation with Ahmad well—and I looked good doing it. I’d hyped myself so much that I walked into my workplace with a renewed energy.

“Good morning,” I greeted Ramona as we approached each other from opposite ends of the hallway. “How are you?”

“Hey!” She grinned, following me into the downstairs ladies’ room. “I’m great! How are you?”

“A little annoyed that I rushed to get here and they pushed the meeting back an hour.”

“Well, you look good! This pink is fierce! Where is this from?”

“Thank you! I ordered it online. I’ll send you the boutique link when I get to my desk.”

“Thank you. And”—she lowered her voice—“fix your eyelash and you’ll be perfect.”

My face fell. “What?”

“Your eyelash is coming off.”

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