The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)(43)
“Lainey.” He grabbed my arm, and I desperately wanted to be the type of girl who could ignore the obstacles between us and push him toward his condo and into his bedroom and remove each and every article of clothing until I got exactly what the ache between my thighs begged for.
Instead, I said, “Yeah?” My voice came out strangled. Definitely did not go along with my “keeping it cool” facade.
“Thanks for tonight.” His hand brushed my cheek and tangled with my curls. I leaned into his touch, staring into those melted-chocolate-chip-brown eyes. His gaze shifted from my eyes, down to my lips, and then back to my eyes again. His tongue darted across his lower lip, and my eyes fluttered shut, anticipating how soft his lips would feel pressed against my own.
His breath fanned across my cheek as he closed the distance between us. His stubble grazed along the side of my jaw as he inched closer, taking the fleshy part of my ear between his teeth. I couldn’t resist him any longer. This pull between us was too much to ignore, and just this once I had to let myself give in and lose myself in the moment. A breathy moan whispered past my lips, and I tilted my head to give him better access.
The elevator door dinged open, and we suddenly weren’t the only people in the hallway.
Balls.
Seriously, what was with me and my perpetual bad luck with elevators?
He pulled back a fraction of an inch, and his expression took on a pained quality, almost like he was warring with himself. He groaned and muttered something under his breath. Our gazes met, and a swirl of hesitation and raw desire flickered in his eyes. Enough to send a shiver trickling down my spine, because those dilated pupils told me everything I needed to know in that moment—I wasn’t going crazy. Brogan was fighting this urge, just like me.
An old lady with a walker clomped her way out of the elevator. A muffled swishing sound filled the hallways as the tennis balls on the bottom of her walker slid along the floor. She glared at us the entire time she passed, which was a good ten seconds, since she was moving at the pace of a slow-motion replay.
Brogan cleared his throat. “Good evening, Mrs. Ellingson.” He nodded at her and smiled.
“Damn kids don’t even have the decency to use the privacy of their own home anymore,” she muttered. She pointed a finger at him and jabbed him in the chest. “I have HBO if I want to see that kind of smutty stuff.” She continued to scowl at Brogan, even though she had inched past us.
“Right. Have a nice evening,” he said as she shuffled her way to what I assumed was her condo and disappeared through the door.
As soon as it closed, we looked at each other. We both erupted in laughter. I doubled over, unable to catch my breath, tears streaming down my face.
After finally finding my composure, I said, “Your neighbor’s a real peach,”
“She has her moments. Can’t say this was one of them,” he said, still chuckling.
He smiled and grabbed my hand, his large calloused one encompassing mine. My whole body tensed in response to the unexpected touch. His eyes were devoid of the heat that was there a few minutes prior, but still managed make my knees buckle. He leaned down and whispered, “Let’s do this again.” He pulled back slowly, his jaw brushing along mine.
I nodded, not looking him in the eyes this time. Because those brown eyes were doing things to my resolve that I wasn’t proud of. How the hell was I supposed to function in the office when he was less than twenty feet away, the only thing between us a door and a set of unforgiving rules?
Chapter Fifteen
Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #76
Good girls don’t kiss and tell.
A week had passed since the meeting and my awkward cookie interaction with Brogan. He hadn’t been home the rest of the week when I walked Bruce. It had also been a week since I’d talked to my mom, the longest stretch since, well, I couldn’t remember the last time it’d been that long.
I spent the rest of the day huddled over my laptop, finalizing figures to present to my boss in hopes that I could somehow get into his good graces again in terms of my work performance. By the time I looked at the clock in the corner of my screen, it was well past time to go, and Jackson had fled the building, probably retreating to his home in the sewer.
The interoffice messenger dinged on my computer, and a flashing message from Brogan popped up on the screen.
Brogan: Are you still here?
It didn’t surprise me he was here this late, but it left me wondering how often this happened. Twenty feet. One door. One man I couldn’t seem to shake out of my mind. Ever since The Infamous Cookie Baking Night I was left wondering where the hell I stood with him. There was only one way to find out.
Lainey: Yes
Brogan: Come in my office, please.
I pushed back from my desk and rushed to Brogan’s office. The emptiness of the building, and lack of ambient noise carrying through the halls, amplified the clicking of my heels against the tile.
The door was unlocked when I jiggled the handle, and Brogan was sitting at his desk, his brows furrowed as he had an intense stare off with his computer.
“What do you need, Mr. Starr?” Using his formal name felt like Nutella on my tongue—rich, savory, and foreign. His eyes dilated, and he sat up straighter in his chair. A chill ran down my spine at the total déjà vu moment this was. Except this time, I didn’t have an alarm to interrupt.