Page 32 of That First Date

I squeal in my seat, completely forgetting I was annoyed with him in the first place. Organization and things like this, make me way too happy for my own good.

“Here. Come. Sit,” I ramble as I stand up from my chair a little too excited. I pat the seat for him to sit where I was just sitting.

Reluctantly, he sits down as I turn the chair for him to face the screen and I click open the virtual calendar.

When I lean down beside him to toggle through the apps on the desktop, I’m hit with an overpowering scent of a man. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. I can’t tell if it’s his soap, aftershave, or cologne. But it’s powerful enough that my body propelled forward to live in the scent as I start to show him what I did.

I rest my elbows on the desk, while I remain bent at the hip. I can feel Marc’s gaze move from the computer screen to the ring on my finger until it lands on my face. I swallow the lump in my throat because I can’t look into his eyes. Just the thought of his eyes on me right now has my legs feeling weak.

“I organized your meetings based on location,” I say on a shaky breath. “Light blue is the Manhattan office, green is the Staten Island office, and yellow is the Bronx office. Each one is scheduled to allow you travel time to each location as well so you’re not rushing around.”

I don’t see it, but I can feel him turn to look towards the computer.

“Each meeting is also scheduled fifteen minutes earlier than the actual start time because we know you can’t be on time for a single thing in your life.”

“Hey,” he says defensively. “I can be on time for things.”

“You’re never on time for work meetings, Marc. Don’t kid yourself.”

I hear a small huff of air come out of him as if he just laughed, which causes me to turn my head and finally meet his stare. A smile instantly forms on my face without thinking anything. Hearing Marc laugh is probably the greatest thing I’ve heard and I want more of it.

I can tell by the way we are both staring at each other with such intensity, that his mind is swirling the same way mine is right now. As if the world has just started spinning on its axis in slow motion, Marc takes his hand and brings it to the side of my face. Gently brushing his thumb along my cheek bone, his eyes trail down until they land on my mouth.

“Marc,” I breathe out. It's the only thing I can say right now because I have no words for what's happening here.

“I seem to recall…” He’s so close to my face and I’m sure he would try to kiss me if I didn’t have that firm rule in place. “I was on time when I picked you up for our date.”

“That’s because Freddy picked me up.” My face leans into his hand on instinct. But I quickly pull myself back to reality. There isn’t a hint of amusement on his face though. His features are serious, and his eyes are dark.

“I beat you to the restaurant that night. But I’m talking about the charity event.” He grins. “I was on time when I picked you up. In fact, that was the first time I was on time for anything in the last few months.”

“It was?”

“Yes,” he says confidently. Brushing my hair from my face while still maintaining eye contact with me. His stare and touch reigniting a fire inside of me. “Something about you… The anticipation of seeing you… just causes me to show up where I need to be on time.”

Tension rapidly fills the small space between us with his admission. Reluctantly, I move to stand up where I was leaning over and break free of the hold he has on me. However, Marc stands up quickly, his hands grip my hips and he presses his body into mine. The move backs me into the windows behind my desk.

“Avery,” he says my name as if it's laced with desperation.

“Yes?”

He traces my jaw line with the tip of his nose until he reaches my ear. I hear him suck in a small breath as if he’s trying to memorize my scent. The combination of his touch and close proximity sends shivers down my spine, a feeling impossible to hide because it causes my body to quiver the way a person would if they were cold.

Before I can do anything, realization passes through Marc, and he quickly takes a step back as if he’s caught himself doing something wrong. He adjusts the sleeves of his button-down shirt, while looking down at the ground—looking anywhere but at me.

I cross my arms over my chest as my eyebrows pinch together with confusion, unsure of what the hell is happening between us. My eyes glance down, and I can see his budding erection forming behind the zipper of his pants.

“Thank you for setting up my calendar, Ave.”

His final words are filled with affliction before he’s out my door, not stopping at his own desk as he retreats out of the office.

I can’t help but stand there, staring through the glass windows wondering what the hell that was.

I don’t know what hell looks like, but I can imagine it looks like my situation with Avery because this past week has been a true test of my self-control.

Ever since last Tuesday when I stormed into her office after I gave her shit for laughing on her phone, and allowing myself to get way too close to her… I don’t know what the hell it is that just pulls me into her.

My. Fucking. Mistake.

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