Say the Word(67)

So when I walked in on Thursday morning, yawning widely after my late night of stalking and stakeouts, I’d been content with my new position. I’d even been looking forward to the coming day, knowing that I’d be surrounded by creative thinkers and working on a project unlike any in the magazine’s history.

Those warm fuzzy feelings deteriorated as soon as I arrived.

I’d slept fitfully, my mind racing with thoughts of Vera, before finally giving up on sleep altogether and rising before dawn. I was too tired for a run, so I’d headed into work early, hoping I could become an asset to the 1920s team and avoid another errand-girl assignment. When I arrived at the ArtLust building, the lobby was quiet and empty but for a security guard, who nodded at me from his desk before turning his attention back to his crossword puzzle.

I’d hit the button for the fourteenth floor and was watching the elevator doors slide closed when a deep, masculine voice called out.

“Hold the elevator!”

I froze, horror dawning as the voice registered in my ears, but it was too late. His hand slipped between the closing doors and they sprang apart to allow him entrance. Damn.

Sebastian stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened but otherwise his expression was stony as ever. There was no remorse in his gaze, nor was there any recognition that Monday night had happened. With a deep inhale, he stepped across the threshold and into the elevator with me. I shuffled a few steps left and looked away as the doors closed behind him.

It grew painfully quiet.

No other riders were there to break the silence with their chatter and no tinny elevator music detracted from the building tension between us as we ascended slowly up fourteen stories. It was just the two of us, trying not to breathe too loud or make any sudden movements, looking anywhere but at each other.

I wanted to laugh. Or cry. I wasn’t sure which.

We were about halfway through our ascent when I felt Sebastian take a step toward me, so his front hovered mere inches from my back. I could practically feel the molecules in the air between our bodies compressing, compacting, as he leaned closer into my space.

If you pressed two strong negative magnets together, they’d repel with every bit of force they could muster. And maybe if you were strong enough, you could hold them against each other for a short period of time, though doing so might eventually sap all your strength. Once you let go, though — once you stopped using all your energy to force them together against their will — chances were, those damn magnets that had repelled with such intensity would flip, changing course and snapping together so fast you couldn’t believe your eyes. And, once they’d realigned, no amount of pulling was liable to separate them again.

What once repelled quickly morphed into an unbreakable pull.

Oh, and how quick that flip was, from abhorrence to attraction, from disdain to desire. Love and lust, hostility and hatred— they were two sides of the same coin. So though Sebastian had made it clear how he felt for me, the charge between us grew anyway, despite all sense and reason. I could hear the pounding of blood in my ears as I mentally calculated the exact amount of space separating his body from mine. I could feel the sharp pain radiating in my mouth as I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check.

Attraction was a life-force. A physical presence, swirling in the air around us and tethering us together. With my hair twisted up in an elegant knot, my neck was exposed to him and I felt his breath there, at my nape, closer than any stranger had a right to be. I fought against the pull, replaying his words in my mind and trying to snap myself back into reality.

I should f*ck you right here like the little whore you are.

I loved him.

I hated him.

I wanted him.

I wanted to kill him.

He’s isn’t your Sebastian anymore, the reasonable side of my brain whispered.

Maybe you could bring him back, a small, insane portion of my cerebrum — probably my hypothalamus, that sex-driven little slut — countered.

Thankfully, before I could address the fact that my brain wires were severely crossed, the elevator chimed, the doors slid open, and the moment was shattered. I felt Sebastian step away and the breath I’d been holding slipped from my lips in a relieved whoosh. Stepping from the elevator, I hurried for the bathroom across the room, not once looking back at him. To my relief, when I emerged ten minutes later Angela was there with a group of assistants, firing off orders at hyper-speed, and Sebastian was on the opposite side of the room by the conference table, staring out the windows in deep thought. His right hand rubbed at the back of his neck in a familiar gesture.

Some things never change, I suppose.

I tore my eyes from him, headed for Angela and, from that moment on, I’d fully committed to our non-staring contest. Or tried to, anyway. I couldn’t speak for Sebastian, but I was having an extraordinarily hard time keeping my eyes off him. Especially when Cara arrived just before noon.

“Baby!” she squealed, sauntering from the elevator with long-legged strides and crossing the room to where he stood with a group of designers. Disregarding the fact that he was in a conversation with his colleagues, Cara sashayed her way to his side and wrapped her abnormally long arms around him from behind. I cursed myself as I broke my own rules and turned to watch their encounter.

“Take me to lunch,” Cara whined loudly, leaning in to kiss his neck.

I felt my eyebrows go up.

“Cara.” Sebastian reached up and took light hold of her wrists, removing them from where they’d locked around his middle. “I’m working.” His tone wasn’t playful in the least and, though his back was to me, I could only imagine what his face looked like.