“Are you trying to avoid me, Amalie?” he whispers in my ear as he leans into my shoulder, his warmth undeniably inviting.
Drawing back, he waits for my answer.
Zane chooses then to find us, confusion all over his face as he has no idea what happened earlier.
“Yes.” I want to wipe that smirk off his fucking face. And then lick it. “You’re making it difficult.”
Tathan puts his hand on his chest, gasping. “I’m hurt.”
Damn it. I’m fighting back a smile. “Yeah, right. I doubt that.”
He leans closer so his lips are touching my ear. Zane looks like he’s going to have a heart attack as Tathan does this. Casey too.
“I don’t see your date with you.” Tathan’s voice is extra raspy. It makes me shiver with excitement. . . or anticipation, maybe, you know, at this point I’m not even sure what the emotions I have are anymore when it comes to him. I know I don’t like it.
“Whydidn’t you tell me your real name?” I take a step back. “Or what is your real name?”
He shifts, almost uncomfortably, if you could possibly make someone like him uncomfortable. “You seemed so appalled by Elliott I thought I could continue to be Tathan.” In probably the most adorable gesture a man like him can make, he scrunches his nose. “You seem to like him better.”
I jab my finger in his chest. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag, isn’t it?”
He smirks. Just fucking smirks. Like him forgetting to tell me who he actually is, is funny to him.
“Whatisyour name?”
He holds out his hand. “Tathan Elliott Madsen.”
I don’t shake it. Nope. Not happening. I actually fold my arms over my chest. “Why do you go by Elliott Warren?”
“Because it’s easier, and Warren is my mother’s maiden name. It’s kind of a tribute to her.” He shrugs, and I feel like a complete asshole. His voice is softer when he speaks, as if he’s trying to maintain some privacy in the thick crowd. “No one knows me as Tathan in photography. Outside of it, I live a normal life. It’s like a pen name.”
Damn it, that makes perfect sense. “Okay, fine. But why do you sit next to me at work then if you’re a photographer?Clearly, you don’t need the money.”
He seems nervous for the first time since I met him, probably because Zane and Casey are staring at us and have been watching this entire interaction. “Paul hired me as a contractor. I photograph the homes for the company. Then I do the editing and posting of them at the office.”
“So you only come into the office for editing? Couldn’t you do that at home?”
He glances at Casey, Zane, and then me again, so many emotions cross his face that I can’t even process which one scares me more. They all do. Every single one of them.
But the biggest shocker of all comes with his words, “And because of you. . . .” He cringes, after the words pass his lips, like he’s afraid of my reaction.
You’ve heard of fight or flight. . . right? I only know flight these days.
I turn and run away.