Lost and Found (Growing Pains #1)(7)

If he wasn’t so drawn in by her despair, he’d be outright laughing. She couldn’t have picked an uglier mug if she’d tried.

“We have plenty. We can have this cleaned up in a flash.” He bent over to scoop up the biggest pieces and stood, leaning towards the garbage can.

“No!”

He froze.

“You can’t throw them away!”

“I don’t understand.” Sean looked from the pieces in his hand to those in hers. Cracking a smile, he said, “I don’t think it’ll hold coffee anymore.”

“It’s my lucky mug. If I have a test or get nervous or something, I have my lucky mug to comfort me. You can’t just throw it away. It’s a process. I know it sounds dumb…”

“And I broke it; your lucky mug.”

Krista shrugged, sadness haunting her. “I was the one that ran into you.”

The downtrodden look on her face pinched Sean’s insides, while the smell of her, lavender and mysterious femininity, tickled his nose.

He’d seen this woman around a lot, noticing her gliding through hallways and getting printouts or making copies. He kept trying to catch her on her own, to get her to agree to an afterhours meet up. Unfortunately, when she saw him she either went sprinting in the opposite direction, or she stared at him mutely and made ready to leave immediately. He was sure it was because of the rumors and his track record, but she was a hot little number. Geeky as all hell, but there was an intelligence there that befuddled him. When she looked at a person, you could tell she was analyzing; working things out. She constantly had him intrigued and turned on at the same time. He wanted to sample the merchandise.

He’d just stumbled on his chance.

“I’ll fix it,” he said quickly, taking the few fragments she held.

Her large round eyes met his. The connection sparked intensity, a rush of lust that had him hard immediately. He stepped closer. He needed to turn this feeling into sex; to get her to make a promise here that he could cash in later that night.

Her hands tightened convulsively. Sweat beaded her brow. She was uncomfortable; struggling with their proximity. Wanting to get away, but drawn in despite it. He had an effect on her; she just didn’t want to give in to it.

And while usually a girl’s reluctance was like a hunt, the thrill of turning her initial rejection into begging to orgasm being the best high, suddenly Sean became aware that something about this was different. Krista wasn’t worried about the rumors the ladies told about him in the break room, or him not calling after they hooked up—something else was making her hesitate. Like a cloud hanging over her, something else was riding this scene.

Sean’s insides pinched again, making him squirm uncomfortably for the second time. He backed off.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then, if you’re sure you’re okay?” Sean murmured, keeping the fragments. The time wasn’t right, but the in was gold, and he wasn’t about to let that go.

Krista nodded mutely, staring at his hands containing the broken mug with baleful eyes.

“Okay, then. See ya…”

As he walked up the corridor, letting the strange feelings of a moment ago dissipate, he couldn’t help a smug grin etching his face. He didn’t know what just happened, but he had the key to her chastity belt in his hands. The timing might not be good right now, but they worked together and he was a master. He’d get that afterhours meet up, he just needed to put a little effort into it.

*****

The tears of defeat were on their way, Krista could feel it.

As she entered her house, welcoming the familiar feel of her space, she immediately turned left toward her room. The day had tap-danced on her last nerves. Her future looked bleak within that department, she broke her lucky mug, and people didn’t like her solely because she was from the Research department.

“Krista! Come in here a second.”

Krista let her head fall back and groaned. It was the last thing she needed.

Ben was in the living room, standing in a murder scene, staring at a reddish mess of canvas. Clear plastic covered ceiling to floor in large swoops. Purple sheets protected furniture. Green sheets protected lamps and tables. The only area left uncovered was the ceiling itself.

“Hi-ya, Ben. Are you plotting to kill me?”

Ben was wearing goggles and white coveralls smeared with paint. He turned toward her, a brush dripping red paint onto his runners.

He lifted the goggles to his head and looked around. “Oh, ha. I didn’t realize it looked like a murder scene. Wait!”

Ben turned back to his canvas, on the brink of some great epiphany. Krista waited patiently. There was no point in rushing him when he was like this. The guy had more creativity than Krista knew existed. He could use that creativity for graphic design, which was his profession, or art school, which was his daytime activity, but also for fixing things, like the sink or a lopsided table. He could rig up a contraption to keep a car wheel on if he really put his mind to it.

He was also wicked smart. He knew things that normal people had to look up on their smartphone. If he could be persuaded to go to Pub Trivia Night, his team always won. Always. Kate and Jasmine badgered him to go constantly.

Sometimes the guy came out with things, as random thoughts, that made Krista feel like a first-grader talking to a college professor. His intelligence would almost be more manageable if he rubbed her face it in. But no, he remained an anomaly because he was also the sweetest guy alive. His quirks had to be borne and dealt with, because in turn, he would drop everything for a friend.