Page 20 of Forbidden Intent

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The guys pile out of the car and immediately head into the building, Tristan and Trent already eagerly discussing the changes they want to make to the track we’re laying down today.I glance down the sidewalk and see the familiar coffee logo halfway down the block calling to me like a siren’s song.

I get Robbie’s attention and gesture toward the coffee shop before putting my hands together like I’m praying while I silently plead with him to help me sneak away so I can grab some coffee.With a smirk, he nods his head.

“Go on.I’ll cover for you, but you better bring me back an Americano.”

“Anything for you, man,” I say, patting him on the back before making my way toward heaven on earth.When I get inside, I waste no time walking to the counter where the barista is waiting with a bright smile on her face ready to take my order.I order drinks for all the guys—I’d be a dick not to—and then turn to go wait at the end of the bar when I see a tauntingly familiar face, and my feet stall before changing directions and heading toward the small table tucked in the back where she sits lost in her own little world.

She’s wearing headphones, her gaze hyperfocused on something on her laptop, with her brow furrowed and her bottom lip trapped between her perfect white teeth.I know I should leave her alone—I’ll likely see her in the studio later anyway—but I can’t resist the chance to talk to her without anyone else around.

“Hey.”

She glances up, her eyes confused for a minute like she’s still lost in whatever she was looking at on her computer and can’t quite fathom the fact that I’m standing in front of her.Quickly her gaze clears and she offers me a shy smile that does nothing to cool the heat brewing in my gut.

“Hey Miles.”Her light and airy voice floats across the space between us and washes over me, eliciting goose bumps across the smooth flesh of my arms.She glances at the top right corner of her laptop before looking back at me.“On your way to the studio?”

“Yeah, thought I’d grab some coffee beforehand.”

She nods and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear as her gaze falls to the table.I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking right now.Is she feeling this too?Does her heart pound heavily every time we’re near each other the way mine does?Do her fingers itch to reach out and touch my hair the way mine ache to touch hers?

“Mind if I sit with you while I wait for my drinks?”

“Not at all,” she says, clearing her throat and shifting in her seat, making me think she’s not quite as comfortable with me as she’s pretending to be, and I’m reminded of how she shut down when I told her I liked her.

My heart sinks to my stomach.Maybe I really am the only one who’s felt something between us in those glances in the studio.In the lingering stares that make me feel like there’s no one else around except the two of us.I don’t normally misread a situation this badly, but everything about this girl has thrown me off from the beginning.Not wanting her to feel pressured to be polite to me, I bury my disappointment and decide to let her off the hook.

“Actually, I should probably let you get back to whatever you’re working on.I’ll see you around.”I take a step away from the table only to be stopped by delicate fingers wrapping around my wrist.The touch sends an instant zing of electricity up my arm.

I look back at her, and her hazel eyes are wide with surprise, as if she can’t believe she’s actually touching me, but she doesn’t let go.Her hand lingers, and I relish in the feel of her soft touch.It doesn’t take any effort at all to imagine her hands touching me in other places.

“Don’t go,” she says, her voice dropping in volume but not in strength.The surprise in her gaze has been replaced by hesitance and something else—something that looks a little like fear, but fear of what I have no idea.

“You sure?”

She nods, and my gaze falls to where she’s nibbling on her bottom lip again.Fuck me.This girl has no idea what she’s doing to me.Hell, I can barely wrap my head around it.

I glance down to where her hand is still wrapped around my wrist and her gaze follows the movement.She lets out a soft gasp before immediately dropping her hand to her lap.The cool air against my skin only heightens the feeling of loss, and I wonder what it would take for her to feel brave enough to touch me again.

Sitting across the seat from her, I nod at her computer.“What are you working on?”

“Oh, nothing important.Schoolwork mostly.”

“Where do you go?”

“USC.I’m double majoring in public relations and music industry in order to be a music publicist.”

“You don’t want to be a producer like your dad?”

She laughs, and the light and carefree sound instantly brings a smile to my face.I now have a new goal to make her laugh as often as possible.

“God, no.Being a producer is my dad’s skill set, not mine.I’m much more adept at problem solving and controlling a situation—or the perception of that situation.”

Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know.Your dad definitely seems to solve a lot of problems, and no one is more in control during our sessions than he is.”

She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and staring at me for a moment before she nods slowly.“You’re right.He does.”She looks out the window, a small smile on her face.“You know, I never noticed that before.”She looks back at me.“I never noticed a lot about what my dad does—at least not while I was growing up.I knew the basics, but it’s just with this internship that I’ve realized the full extent of what he does.”

“But it’s not enough to change your mind about your career.”

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