Page 3 of The Run In

I lifted my hand and checked to make sure I wasn’t actually drooling.

He glanced over at me, and I shot my eyes forward. The doors opened and we both went to opposite sides of the elevator. We were the only two people on it as the door closed, and we both pushed the button for the same floor. Forty-One.

I snapped my head towards him, but he just stood there, stone cold. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear he was holding back a smirk.

“Are you following me?”

He laughed as he glared at me. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ouch. That hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I could see the instant regret in his eyes.

I huffed and stared straight ahead.

“Jerk,” I mumbled.

He leaned in closer and asked, “What was that?”

Forcing a fake smile, I replied, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“First you spill your hot coffee on me…”

Turning to face him, I said, “Tea. It was tea. I don’t drink coffee.”

He smiled slightly. “Whatever the fuck it was, it was hot.”

I grinned, and his brows drew together.

“Then you called me an asshat, threatened to knee my balls, and now you’re calling me a jerk?”

With a tilt of my head, I let my eyes roam slowly over his body before looking back into those dreamy-as-fuck eyes.

“I do believe I called you an asshole first, then an asshat, then a jerk.” With a shrug, I added, “If the shoe fits.”

His eyes turned dark, and I took a step away from him. The way he was looking at me had my heart speeding up and my stomach dropping. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the guy wanted to kiss me.

But then I laughed internally. He had already made the point that he would never be interested. Drawing my eyebrows together, I glared at him.

The elevator doors opened, and I rushed out, leaving him behind me. I suddenly desperately needed air. I had been holding my own with the guy until he’d looked at me like that. I couldn’t tell if it was pure hate or something else entirely. What that something was, I had no clue.

Seeing the receptionist in front of me, I glanced at my watch.

Shit. I’m ten minutes late.

I walked over to her quickly and plastered on a fake smile as she looked up at me.

“Hello, I’m so sorry I’m late. Saylor Night. It’s my first day, and I have a meeting with Mason Quinn.”

She smiled big. “Hi there. Let me tell him know you’re here and—” she paused as she looked over my shoulder. “Oh, good morning Mister—”

“I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the asshat walk past.

What. A. Dick.

When I turned back to the receptionist, she had a concerned look on her face. She focused on me and smiled. “He’s not normally like that. I, um, I’m not sure what happened, but he seems pretty mad.”

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