Page 72 of The Boyfriend List
"Wow, that sounds like a great nonprofit to work at," he says. "I'm sure you'll get the job."
"Thanks, London. I don't even know if Iwantthe job, though."
"Even if you don't want it, I'm sure you'll hear from them in no time," he says. "You're amazing. They'd be stupid not to hire you. And it sounds like work you’d enjoy more than you do now.”
"Aww, thank you." I squeeze his hand.
He goes back to his desk and I try to focus on work. Still, the job application burns in the back of my mind, as do his words.
I spend the rest of the day half-heartedly typing up legal documents, calling clients, and other busywork. Then I jump away from my desk at five pm sharp, pack up my stuff, and powerwalk to the elevator. London follows me a moment later, setting a hand on my lower back. I feel the heat of his touch through the layers of my blazer and button-down shirt, and spin around to face him.
"What's the rush, Ria?" he asks while we wait for the elevator.
I shrug. "I just want to have enough time to go grocery shopping, clean the apartment, and start packing my suitcases for the trip."
He chuckles and we fall into step alongside each other. "Suitcases, plural? We're going for five days, why do you need more than one bag?"
I shake my head as we get into the elevator and push the button for the parking garage. "Men."
"Please enlighten me, a man, as to why you would need more than one suitcase for a five-day holiday."
"I need one for souvenirs, concert merch, and I'm sure my family will start bombarding me with requests for stuff they want me to bring them from the States," I say, just as my phone goes off. Sure enough, it's Paulo asking me to bring him a certain brand of coffee he likes. “I’m bringingsomuch stuff back, and then when I get there I’ll have to bring back all the stuff that I can’t find here.”
"You can put that stuff in my suitcase if you want," London offers. "That way you won't need to pay for more than one checked bag."
"Are you sure? I don't want to weigh down your luggage."
"Let me carry your stuff for you. You know, like a boyfriend would," he says with a knowing glint in his eye. "Besides, it's just five days in the Philippines. All I need are my swim trunks and shorts."
"You're not bringing a shirt?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to bring a shirt?" he says, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Only,I’mthe canary.
"Of course," I splutter. I'm definitely not thinking about the time he answered the door shirtless when I showed up at his apartment. "You're going to be around my family. You can't walk around shirtless all the time."
"Would it be too scandalous for you?"
"Yes!" I retort as the elevator doors open and we walk into the parking garage. "Can we please stop talking about inappropriate family vacation attire?"
"Are you bringing a swimsuit?"
"Only if you bring at least two shirts," I say.
"You can wear the other one," he teases.
The last thing I need is to think about wearing London's shirt. I still haven’t returned his hoodie.
"Fine," I say, sliding into the driver's seat of my car and looking straight ahead. I don't even protest when London plugs his phone into the aux cord and starts playing a podcast on the stock market. Although I really should. I don't need to worry about the economy when I have enough things on my plate already. "Why are we listening to this? We both took finance classes in college."
"I'm trying not to think about you in a swimsuit, so this was my idea of a mood-killer."
"It's working." I back out of the parking spot as the host drones on in a monotonous voice about index funds and ETFs. "So you're saying the mere thought of me is too distracting for you?"
London leans over, his lips caressing the shell of my ear. "Just as much as the thought of me shirtless is too distracting foryou, Ria."
I can't hide the shiver that runs down my spine. This is going to be a long few weeks until our vacation.
Chapter Twenty-Six: London
