Page 50 of The Nerds and the CEO

He crossed the room and stopped less than a foot away. “I’m glad I caught you. Do you have a few minutes?” His words sounded stilted. Almost uneasy.

“Sure, but not more than that. Work and all.” She hoped she didn’t come off as rude. The vibes he radiated amped her anxiety—as if it wasn’t already cranked to the max—and she didn’t understand why.

“Right. With the sexy boss?” Paul leaned his shoulder against the fridge.

The posture almost blocked her in the corner. “I suppose. What’s up?”

“I need to tell you something, and I don’t think I’ve been going about it the right way.”

Behind her, the toaster popped, making her jump. She wanted to reach back and grab her breakfast, mostly to give the gnawing in her gut a different source to chew on. “What’s up?” Great. She was so off kilter, she was repeating herself.

He glided a palm down her arm, raising goosebumps of disdain as he passed, then intertwined his fingers with hers. “I know you see me as the guy you grew up with, but I want to find out what it takes to mean more to you.”

“I— What?” It was a dimwitted response. She understood exactly what he meant. The words clicked with every misgiving she had since he showed up almost a month ago, confirming suspicions she hadn’t been able to give a name to. Apparently, she still struggled with the concept.

“I like you, Emily. A lot. I have, for a long time. I’m wondering if you’d giveusa chance. I don’t expect you to dive into anything head first, but we could start with dinner—the two of us alone—and see where things went from there.”

That sounded simple enough. It was a sweet request, and the way he stared at their linked fingers, rather than looking her in the eye, was shy and endearing. Seeing what could be with Paul made more sense than lusting after two men she couldn’t have. She and Paul had a little in common. He’d be a way to move on and experience a healthy relationship.

“Emily?” Concern filled his voice. “You still with me?”

He expected an answer. She grasped at theI’d like that, that was the right reply. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” came out instead. “I don’t feel that way about you.” Unlike the confusion in her head, the words made sense. It was nice something did.

“No?” He tightened his grip on her fingers until they ached. “How can you be so sure? You haven’t given it a chance.”

“I don’t have to justify myself. Can we talk about this later? I need to get to the office.” She tried to work her hand free, subtly at first, but then with more force.

He straightened up and slammed his palm against the fridge. It impacted with a loudslap. “I’d like to talk about it now, so I don’t have to wonder how many other guys you’re fucking every time you leave the house.”

“I’m not sleeping with a roster of men. Not that it’s any of your business.” Acid burned in Emily’s throat. How was Cynthia sleeping through this?

“Why him and not me? What makes this Justin guy so special?” He angled his body, blocking her escape.

She’d never told Cynthia about Antonio. Until now, she wondered why not. Paul’s question might have sparked some deeper spiral of questions in Emily’s head if she weren’t focused on how quickly the situation deteriorated. “Nothing.” She tried to convince herself as well as Paul. “He’s a guy. That’s it. Nothing special. Nothing different. Nothing I’m hung up on.”

“Then why won’t you give me a chance?”

Was she talking to a brick wall? “I told you. I don’t feel it.”

“We’ll fuck a couple of times, and then maybe you’ll feel it.” He squeezed her hand harder.

She jerked from his grasp and shouldered him aside. “We won’t.” She didn’t dare look back as she grabbed her purse and keys and left the house. By the time she reached her car, she shook so bad, she dropped the keys on the sidewalk. She sank into the driver’s seat, and the adrenaline settled into her empty gut.What the hell was that?

Emily needed to get out of here. She backed the car out of its spot, and made it around the corner before she had to pull over or risk steering herself off the road. It took several minutes of counting to ten and then four-hundred and fifty, before her pulse calmed enough that she could grip the steering wheel again. She grabbed her phone and sent Cynthia a quick text.We need to talk. Call me when you get up. She had no idea how to approach the subject, but she had to say something.

In the meantime, Emily needed to get to the office. It was still early, and that meant silence and a chance to hide out in the cafeteria until she collected her thoughts. She reached work without any more freakouts. As she was walking inside, Cynthia called.

“Morning.” Emily didn’t have the energy to act chipper. Cynthia would understand.

“What did you do?”

Or not. Defensiveness spiked inside Emily. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. That came out wrong. Paul is furious. Said you were in a foul mood when you got up. That you barely spoke to him in the kitchen, and you shoved him in your rush to get out the door. What’s going on?”

“He told you that?” Emily almost choked on her disbelief.

“It didn’t sound like you, but you’ve been working hard lately.” Sympathy bled into Cynthia’s words. “What really happened?”

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