Page 76 of Forced Proximity
There were a few answers, but none of them were sufficient to her, so she explained loudly why that was a no-no.
I loved hearing her be so authoritative.
I loved even more that she seemed to sense me and stopped talking before turning to survey me.
Her mouth fell open when she saw me leaning there, and then she turned back to the students and told them to go.
They left, scurrying like rats to get out of the queen’s notice.
She walked up to me woodenly and said, “What are you doing here?”
“Wondering why you chose to come to work when you promised me you’d stay,” I replied gently.
She winced. “I’m allergic to dogs, Finnian. I’m sorry, but I can’t go to your house anymore. And plus…” She looked around the room where not a single person resided. “I needed to work.”
Dammit.
I’d have to find a way to get her the information she needed to let her know that her loan was paid off without letting her know I was the one to take care of it. Once she knew she didn’t have to work so hard, maybe she’d give herself the rest she so desperately needed.
I held out the coffee for her, this one different from the ones she ordered in the mornings, and she took it.
She brought it up to her nose and sniffed, and gasped.
“How did you know?”
“Triple shot of espresso with vanilla flavoring and drowning in cinnamon?” I asked. “Trade secrets.”
She shook her head and took a sip, closing her eyes when bliss filled her. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
I reached into my back pocket and retrieved the two cookies—gingersnap—and handed them to her.
Her eyes went wide, her mouth falling open in awe.
“Now, I know that you didn’t ask Aella for this one. She doesn’t ever work night shift with me, so she wouldn’t know. How did you figure this out?” she asked.
I grinned, deciding to go with the truth. “I hacked into your Starbucks account to see what you order the most.”
She rolled her eyes. “You could’ve just told me you didn’t want to tell me.”
I raised a brow at her. “Do you know what I do for a living?”
She frowned. “You’re a state representative.” She paused. “Or were. I saw it spark national outrage that you quit just an hour ago. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I admitted. “I’m actually quite happy about it. I think for a long time, that was my escape. But it stopped being an escape a while ago, and I was just too fucking hurt to admit to myself I didn’t want to come home and see everyone here so fucking happy when I wasn’t.”
Her eyes widened.
“That plane crash gave me plenty of time to think about everything. And in the end, it was an easy decision to step down. I can’t stand Washington, DC, and politics. I want to be here, doing what I really love to do.”
“What is it that you really love to do?” she wondered.
“Other than you?” I teased.
“Other than me.”
“I’m a hacker.”
She blinked. “You’re what?”
