Page 24 of Tuned To Break
“When you change your mind—and you will change your mind—you know where to find me.”
Then he’s gone, and the room feels bigger, emptier, colder without him in it. My legs wobble like they forgot how to work, and I sink into my chair because it’s that or slide to the floor in a boneless heap.
The scent of him lingers—motor oil, clean sweat, and that sharp masculine note that’s all Jake. It’s in my hair, on my skin, in the fucking air, haunting me.
I try to focus on the spreadsheets scattered across my desk, but the numbers blur into meaningless black smudges. After ten minutes of pretending, I shove them aside and start packing up. Monday, I can deal with it.
The drive home is a blur of headlights and thoughts I can’t outrun. The ghost of his mouth on mine. The feel of his fingers buried inside me like they owned me.
By the time I’m in my driveway, I’m already dialling, and Megan answers on the second ring.
“Please tell me you’re calling with good news about the hot mechanic,” she says instead of hello.
“How do you—never mind,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Yes, it’s about Jake.”
“I knew it! Spill everything.”
“He’s the guy from Grumpy’s.”
There’s a sharp inhale, then: “Are you sure?”
“Completely sure. We... well, let’s just say he confirmed it tonight.”
“Oh my God. You didn’t!” She squeals so loud I jerk the phone away from my ear.
“No sex. We made out in my office, and he... well, he made me come.”
Megan shrieks again, and I’m ninety percent sure my speaker will never recover.
“I’m so proud of you! How was it?”
“Amazing. Incredible. Everything I remembered and more.”
“So what’s the problem? Because I can hear it in your voice—you’re doing that overthinking thing you do.”
I sigh, letting my head thunk back against the headrest. “I told him it can’t happen again. That we need to keep things professional.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Megan—”
“No. Seriously. You find the best orgasm of your life working in the same building as you, and your first instinct is, ‘Let’s file a damn HR complaint against ourselves’?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s only complicated if you make it complicated,” she fires back with zero hesitation.
She’s probably right. Hell, she’s definitely right. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I do. You march your cute arse back in there on Monday and tell him you changed your mind.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple. Stella, when was the last time you were this excited about a guy?”
I think about it. About how long it’s been since someone made me feel this alive. This reckless. “Never,” I admit softly.
“Exactly. So don’t fuck it up by overthinking it.”
