Page 17 of Losing Forever
She sniffs it. “Why?”
“I brought coffee for everyone. Donuts, too.”
“Oh.” She peers over her shoulder at Noah, who’s dipping a donut into his coffee and talking to Caitlyn.
“Would you like a donut?” I ask. “I can get you one.”
“No, thank you.”
As if I’m not beside her, she returns her focus to her laptop and scrolls through floor samples on a website.
“Are you ignoring me for a reason?”
“I’m not ignoring you. I’m working. You should try it.” She gasps and covers her mouth.
“Have I done something else to offend you in addition to teasing you when you were a preteen?” I perch on the edge of the desk.
Her gaze swings to my butt. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting.” It’s hard to keep the humor from my voice. Since when did annoying an attractive woman become fun to me?
“There’s a chair.” She gestures to it, avoiding my gaze.
I clip a grin. “Are you offering me to stay?”
“No, I’m trying to get you off my desk.”
“It’s not your desk, though, is it?” Damn, I’m asking for it. She should kick me out.
Her nostrils flare the way they did in the pool that one day. I loved how riled up she got when I took the football from her. Might have committed our encounter to memory and replayed it a few times over that year. How easily memories can return.
“What can I do to smooth things over between us? Want a rematch? I promise to let you win.”
Her hand curls into a fist, and she glares at her keyboard. “I did win. I caught that ball, and you stole it.”
Why won’t she look me in the damn eyes? “Braylee?” I use a tender tone.
Her features relax, and she lets out a defeated sigh. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Part of my job is making sure the office is a pleasurable work environment. You don’t seem pleasured by my company.” At least I didn’t ask how I could pleasure her.
She turns her head, her gaze on my waist, and crosses her arms. It pushes her creamy breasts above the neckline of her tank top.
My mouth waters. This isn’t a move to get my attention. Braylee isn’t hitting on me. She wants me gone. A first, and a turn-on—to my detriment. I don’t need more of a reason to want this beautiful, wounded girl. But I can’t leave. Not until she looks at me.
I touch her chin and lift her face. Finally, her eyes connect with mine. Big mistake. Staring into those light-blue depths throws me off-balance, like I’m on a boat in choppy water.
It’s the same thing that happened when I first met her in the pool. Those hypnotic eyes, wise beyond her years, sent my world spinning. Her gaze was challenging, like it is now. And her face was so damn pretty, her flawless skin speckled with drops of water making her look like a mermaid.
She looks older now but still young for her age. The Florida sun hasn’t been easy on me or any athlete I know. Maybe she benefited from being raised in Seattle. Or maybe it’s just her.
I forget my hand is still under her chin until her delicate fingers touch my wrist. She doesn’t push me away. Instead, she licks her lips. I doubt she’s aware she did, but now I’m back to being obsessed with her mouth.
The urge to drag my thumb across that moist bottom lip hits me with force. Have I ever wanted to kiss anyone so badly before? I want to believe my month-long celibacy is causing me to react this way, but considering I didn’t respond like this to Caitlyn, I know it’s just Braylee.
And dammit, my favorite appendage wants to join the party. Pressure builds in my pants. I need to get laid ASAP.
“Grayson?” Braylee breathes my name. It’s soft and sweet. Paired with those eyes and that mouth, I fear for the zipper on my pants.
