Home > Rebel Yule (Rookie Rebels #5.5)(4)

Rebel Yule (Rookie Rebels #5.5)(4)
Author: Kate Meader

I get the impression I’ve done something to offend you. I wish I knew what it was.

Huh, I bet you do. Try taking another puck to the head, Mr. Goalkeeper, and see if that jogs your memory.

Erik Jorgenson would be the last man on earth she would choose to voluntarily spend a moment with.

That wasn’t always the case. There was a time she would’ve been thrilled to have this man pick her up from work for a date. Open a door for her, pull out a chair, smile over candlelight.

But he had finished with her before they had a chance to even start.

And the worst of it was that she was left with the crushed dreams … while he didn’t remember a single thing.

 

 

2

 

 

Casey was clearly not enjoying this turn of events.

Erik didn’t want to make her uncomfortable but when Harper called and asked if he’d give her assistant a ride to the party, he’d jumped at the chance.

It wasn’t the first time the Rebels CEO had mentioned Casey. More than once, she had asked him if there was something going on—something that needed to be resolved—and he had been honest.

She doesn’t like me. I don’t know why but she seems to actively hate me.

Now Harper was stepping in to arbitrate. Erik had known the boss a long time and she usually had good instincts. If she thought Erik should be escorting Casey to the party, she was probably right. A fifteen-minute drive to Chase Manor might give him a clue.

But the look on Casey’s face right now—hell, Erik didn’t want to make her uneasy.

Yet he couldn’t stop staring because she was fucking gorgeous.

“If you’d prefer to make your own way there—”

She held up a hand. “No, it’s fine. You went to all this trouble. I just need to get my coat.”

It was no trouble at all, but he merely nodded and waited for her return.

Maybe he should put her in a cab. For the first time he considered that he might not want to know what he did to wound her. Because that’s what it felt like. Not just an offhand comment or a bad joke. Whatever he had done was felt personally in her soul.

She came out of the front office, draped in a long black coat that gave flashes of that hot red number she wore beneath. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, hints of red highlights glinting under the office lights. She wore more makeup than he’d ever seen on her. Not caked on, just different. She always looked beautiful and now she looked like a shiny Christmas bauble.

Avoiding direct eye contact, she stabbed at the elevator call button.

Yeah, definitely a cab.

He took out his phone and checked Uber. There was a driver within three minutes. On the elevator’s arrival, he waited for her to step in, then followed, careful to maintain a respectful distance.

Still, he couldn’t help running off his mouth. “You look great. I like your hair … like that.”

She snapped her gaze to his. Surely that couldn’t offend but this was his life now, it seemed.

Something flickered in her expression, almost an easing of the tension. “Thanks,” and then after a beat, “You look well, too.”

“Thanks.”

She turned to her phone, the tension back to thick and heavy.

He had to know. Even if it made her mad, he had to know.

“Casey, I—”

The elevator ground to a screeching halt with a noise that sounded … not good. The way it stopped was more of a lurch, to be honest.

Casey moved toward the doors, though they were still closed. “That’s weird. I don’t think we’re on the first floor yet.”

“We’re not.” He pressed the door open button on the panel. Nothing. He tried the first-floor button again, which was still lit, but no joy.

There was nothing for it but to push the “call” button. “Hello, is anyone there?”

Silence.

“Hello—”

A static crackle cut him off followed by a voice that sounded both loud and tinny in the small space. “This is Sean in Security. We realize the elevator is stalled. Maintenance is on the way. Don’t panic.”

Don’t panic. That was the advice?

Erik pressed the button again. “No one’s panicking. There are two of us here, Erik Jorgenson and Casey Higgins, but we’re fine.” He slid a glance toward Casey. “We’re fine, right?”

She stepped in close, giving him a whiff of a floral scent that curled inside his chest and took residence. “How long will it be?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes,” Sean said. “Hold tight.”

“Will do,” Erik said, then to Casey, “I’m sure they’re working as fast as they can.”

“Freakin’ Harper,” she muttered.

“Harper?”

She lanced him with a look. “Never mind.”

“Well, it looks like we have some time.”

“For what?”

“A chat.” He leaned against the elevator wall, his hands gripping the rail behind him. “I think it’s time you told me exactly what I’ve done to piss you off.”

“We’ve already had this conversation. Nothing.”

“Now we both know that’s not true. I’ve worked here for seven years and I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say I’m pretty well-liked.”

Her expression was contempt, her words even more so. “Good for you.”

“But you took an instant hate to me the first time we met. I want to know why.”

She pressed the call button. “Any updates? It’s getting hot in here.”

Yeah, it was. Sweat should not be attractive, but a light sheen covered her forehead and a strand of hair had escaped the prison of her hairstyle, a damp curl he wanted to wrap around his little finger.

“We’re going as fast as we can. Do you need medical attention?”

“No—but I”—she darted another look his way, more of annoyance than fear—“we have to be somewhere.”

“Just hold tight, Miss Higgins.”

Taking a few steps back, she rubbed a hand over the back of her neck.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t like enclosed spaces. I’m not full-on claustrophobic, but I don’t enjoy this.”

“I’ll give you all the space you want. The physical space.”

She didn’t like that.

“Yep, that means that you’re not off the hook for that question. Why do you have an absolute hate-on around me?”

“Hate-on?” She blushed and he got it. Maybe. She … liked him?

“Casey, is there something you need to tell me?” He took a step closer. “About how you feel?”

“How I feel? Oh, Jorgenson, you have no idea how I feel.”

Jorgenson? It sounded far too familiar. Yet they had barely exchanged a word that wasn’t strained or snarky. His name on her lips like that sent a shiver through him.

He quickly revised his previous opinion. That didn’t sound like unrequited love or lust.

“It’s nothing. Could we stop talking about it?” She leaned over and pressed the button again, just as the elevator dipped. She wobbled on her heels … right into his arms.

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