Page 10 of Space Crush
She looks fantastic. Like it was made for her.
Which is a funny thought to have considering she’s had to roll both the sleeves and the pant legs to make it fit.
“Sorry.” Kaley’s mouth pull back in a grimace. “I should’ve waited for you to get back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I turn to close the door. “About what Ian said—” I take one step toward her, pausing when my eyes make note of what’s neatly folded on the chair in front of my desk. “Is that your shirt?” I point to the red fabric.
Kaley blinks at the abrupt change in subject. “Uh, yeah.”
“You took off your clothes”—suddenly strained, I clear my throat—“before putting on the coveralls?” I close my eyes, needing a moment to regroup.
“Should I not have?”
As my regrouping only serves to give my brain time to focus on imagining Kaley, standing nearly naked in my office, I open my eyes again. “Coveralls are called that because theycoveryour clothes.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know that, but my pants were ripped, so I thought?—”
“And your shirt?” I swallow, finding the act hard, as if my brain forgot how to do it. “Why did you take your shirt off?”
She throws her hands up, apparently at a loss over why I’m so fixated on what she’s wearing under her coveralls. “Well, I mean, I thought it would be weird to just wear a polo and no pants.”
Her lack of self-awareness has me closing the distance between us. I clutch her upper arms, dropping my forehead to hers. “You’re killing me, Kaley.”
One zip. That’s all that’s between me and Kaley Parker.
Between the ripped pants and now the coveralls, I can’t help but feel that the universe I work so hard to help explore is seriously testing me.
“Um, Evan?”
As if proving my hypothesis, Kaley licks her lips.
Inhaling the scent of lemons, I exhale long and slowly, struggling for control. “Yeah?”
“Just to be clear.” She swallows, the act seeming to take her just as much effort as it did me.
I lift my head in an attempt to ease the tension growing in my jeans. “You do love clarity.”
I’m graced with another classic Kaley eye roll.
“Yes, well,anyway…” She blows back a few flyway hairs tickling her temple. “I know I just sort of threw the whole ‘not casual’ thing at you. But I”—her gaze drops to my throat—“uh, wondered what, exactly, that meant to you.” She shrugs under my touch. “I mean, the definition of ‘not casual’ is subjective, and it might mean something different for you than me, so I thought it might be good to?—”
“Clarify?” I fight the smile, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate me finding her adorable right now.
Though I must not be successful because when she looks up, her blue eyes narrow, and I rush to answer to avoid another playful backhand.
“‘Not casual’ means serious.” I tilt my head, one brow lifted. “It means communicating. You know, like, answering calls and replying to texts.”
I can tell she wants to roll her eyes again by the way her lips twitch at the corners.
“It means exclusive.”
The space above her nose wrinkles. “So you haven’t been dating anyone?” Her eyes cut to the side. “It’s okay if you did, I?—”
“No one.” I give her arms a squeeze. “How could there be when you had me at ‘heavy machinery safety recertification’?”
When she releases a light and breathy laugh, I feel like I passed a test.
And as if thinking the same thing, she gives me a reward—wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a sweet, soft kiss.
