The bulletin board. Those are probably in the other supply closet. The one that’s directly across from Kris’s office. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I mutter.
Declaring that I’m not going to mess with the fucking gorgeous god of tech is a lot more effective when I don’t have to go by his office and feel that stare that I wish was a physical fucking touch.
“Depends on the joke.” A smoky voice says.
I yelp and nearly fall backwards. The man himself is standing behind me, watching me reach for the just-out-of-reach markers.
“Whether or not you are fucking kidding,” he clarifies. “You need some help?”
“I can probably get it.”
He steps closer to me. “But what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help a lady in distress?”
“I’m not in distress,” I say, but my voice doesn’t make it seem that way. He’s so close that the air is thin in my lungs and my body seems fully determined to rebel against me.
Watching him reach up above my head and pull down the box of Sharpies is like a sexual act. Perfect suit bunching and stretching to accommodate a body that doesn’t need to be naked to announce that it’s a fucking masterpiece.
“Here you go.”
I swallow. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t think I’d find you in the supply closet.”
“People need their supplies, don’t they?”
Kris grins. “I suppose so. But I find that a good amount of the time, people don’t go into supply closest for actual office things.” His gaze drops down my body, lingering at the edge of my buttons and sliding down my legs like a caress before coming all the way back up to my eyes.
“What do they go in there for?”
I know exactly what he’s talking about. It’s too obvious not to, but right now I want to hear him say it. Just for a few more seconds of soaking in that velvet honey voice that I want to drown in.
“I suppose,” he says, “that depends who finds them while they’re in there.”
My hands are full of the things that I’ve gathered on my list, and he gently sets the pack of Sharpies on top. My god, I wish that my hands were not full right now, but it’s a good thing that they are. If they weren’t, I’m not sure that I would be able to keep a hold on myself.
What does this man put out into the air that he’s fucking irresistible whenever he’s in my proximity? I want him to knock all the things that I’m carrying out of my hands, push me up against the wall and kiss me. Fuck, I want that.
No, you don’t.
I’ll regret it later. I need to be careful and find someone that’s going to be perfect in the long term. Not someone who’s just going to be good for a few quick hits of pleasure—no matter how good that pleasure might be. And it doesn’t matter how innocent I am, I think that being with Kris would be mind-melting, soul-altering, body-shattering type pleasure.
Which is why I can’t afford to even entertain the thought of him. He’ll ruin me.
I just have to convince myself that I don’t want him.
“Well,” I say quietly, “I’m new here. I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” The lie slips out of my mouth so easily that my confidence rises until I see his smirk. I swear it’s like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and exactly how inexperienced I am, and he only wants more of it.
“Chianna?” Meynard’s voice comes from around the corner and my entire body goes cold with fear.
Kris smoothly takes a step back from me before my uncle rounds the corner, but that doesn’t stop the fury in his eyes when he sees me with Kris. Now I’m fucking glad that my hands are full. If they’re full of stuff, then I very clearly couldn’t have been doing other things.
“It’s long since time that you be back with the things I asked you for. They’re not exactly hard to find.”
“I have them,” I say with a swallow. “Just need one other thing from the other closet.”
Kris turns to my uncle. “Chianna was doing exactly what you asked her to. But she was struggling to reach the last thing on your list. She was just on her way.”
“Shouldn’t you be on your way?” my uncle practically snarls.
“Of course.” Kris doesn’t seem remotely bothered by Meynard. And that same charming grin stays on his face without any difficulty. If I didn’t find the fact that he rubs my uncle the wrong way hilarious, I could definitely see why my uncle dislikes him. If someone tried that hard to unnerve me, I’d be furious.
Luckily, I think the last thing that Kris Canterbar is trying to do is unnerve me.
“Get the things I gave you done,” he says. “And then take everything back to the apartment. Put an Uber on the card. I don’t want Canterbar snooping around any of my work, so you’ll have to put things together at home.”
My stomach sinks. Of course he’d be asking me to do work at home. I fight off the sigh that builds up in my throat. I wanted this job, and I’m grateful that he pulled some strings for me, but I hope that I actually get a chance to learn and not just be free secretarial labor for Meynard. “Okay.”
“And don’t worry,” my uncle says. “I know Kris is a bastard. He shouldn’t be butting in and making you uncomfortable. I’ve never liked him, but you can’t control who you work with. At least for now.”
“For now?”
A grim smile. “Someday I’d like to think that I’ll be in an office that is free of Kris Canterbar. But right now, both you and I need to focus to make that happen. So get everything together and go home.”
He turns on his heel and leaves, not bothering to check if I’m going to follow his orders. I have the urge to tell him that I don’t really want an office without Kris. He didn’t make me uncomfortable, and I certainly don’t want to use any of my focus to make that happen. But I don’t. All that will do is make the next weeks utterly unbearable while I live with him.
Instead, I grab a box for all the things that I have so far, make a quick detour to the other closet for the bulletin board, and then head out. I’m relieved that Kris isn’t in his office when I go to the other closet. One interaction like that in a day already has my blood heated. Two times trapped in a closet with him in one day? I may well and simply perish.
Turns out everything that Meynard wants me to bring home is a lot. I’m grateful for the Uber. But getting it all up into the apartment is no easy task. Especially since the bulletin board and the boxes block the view in front of me.
I step off the elevator and slam into something. “Woah there.”
“Shit,” I curse under my breath. “I’m sorry. I can’t see where I’m going with all this stuff.”
“That’s okay.” Hands grasp the box on top and lift it away from me. “I survived.”
I do a double take at the voice a second before the box disappears and it’s him. Kris Canterbar. In my apartment building. I feel my jaw drop open before I can actually process. The other box falls from my hands to the floor. Thankfully, not everything spills out. Just a couple of things. “What are you doing here?”
He smirks. “Me? I live here. What are you doing here?”