Page 12 of Personal Foul

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, making me smile. “What is it?”

“White chocolate mocha?” I slide it across her desk to her.

“How did you know?” A thousand emotions flash through her eyes and she bites her lip.

“A little birdie told me.” I lean forward and pull her lip free. Rubbing my thumb along her plump bottom lip.

“Garrett,” she says between a whimper and a sigh.

“Sorry, I can’t keep my hands to myself when you’re around.” I slowly pull my hand back, shoving both hands into my pockets to make sure I don’t touch her again.

Reagan stands, walking around her desk and right up to me.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“Anything for you,mi reina,” I tell her sincerely. I can tell Reagan is fighting the emotions running through her. I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Have a good day Reagan, don’t work too hard, yeah?”

I turn and walk towards the door.

“Wait, you’re leaving?”

I look back at her and see her face full of confusion. “You have a busy schedule. I don’t want to occupy all your time, I just want a little when you can give it.”

“You’re something else, Garrett Stone.” She smiles.

“Just wait.” I wink, making her laugh.

“See you later?”

“Later,reina.” I walk out with a pep in my step. Slow and steady wins the race. I won’t push Reagan into something she doesn’t want, but one thing is for sure, she wants me as much as I want her if her body language is anything to go by.

Chapter 4

Week 4

Garrett

I’m one of those odd guys who loves to run. There is something about the repetition that calms my mind. No music needed, just the sound of birds chirping and the occasional footsteps of someone else. Running outside comes with the risk of running into a football fan, but runners tend to stick to themselves. It probably helps that I go first thing in the morning as the sun is rising. I round a corner and see another runner in front of me. Tight black shorts, reflective yellow sports bra and running shoes. Her long black hair swinging back and forth.

I’d know that body anywhere—Reagan.

I speed up and watch her a little harder.

I increase my pace a little more and come alongside her and fall into step with her. She puts a little space between us and does a double take when she realizes it’s me. Reagan trips but catches herself.

“Holy shit, Stone! Don’t sneak up on a woman,” she huffs.

I ignore her comment. “You like to run?”

“No, I like to eat, and running is a necessary evil to keep my Irish ass in shape,” she deadpans, making me laugh.

I peek over her shoulder at the ass in question. “Keep doing whatever you’ve been doing. You have an ass to kill for.”

She raises a brow, but says nothing and we just run together. Approaching an opening, a rogue bunny comes out of nowhere and jets out in front of us. Reagan squeals and loses her footing. I grab her and spin, taking the brunt of the fall, Reagan sprawled out on top of me breathing hard.

She pushes up and slaps my shoulder. “Why in the hell did you do that?”

“Do what? Catch you?” I asked, surprised.

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