Spinning around, I grabbed a zip-up hoodie from the back of the couch and threw it on before turning back to face him. “I didn’t skip work. I called in sick.”
“You’re not sick.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Yes, I do,” he replied, lowering his arms and taking a step closer. “You’re avoiding me. Which poses a serious problem, seeing as you’re my assistant and all.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I was equal parts turned on, pissed off, and freaked out. “Y-yeah… w-well…” I stuttered. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to avoid you if you’d quit trying to have sex with me! It makes for a rather hostile work environment, you know.”
He stepped even closer and I had to back away to keep the necessary space between us. “Name one time I’ve ever hit on you at work.”
I wracked my brain for an example to prove my point and came up empty—which only made me more mad and flustered. “Ugh! Stop being so damn logical!”
A devilish smirk spread across his stupid face as he slid his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall casually. The bastard knew he had me on the ropes. “Then explain what the problem is because I’m not seeing the issue here.”
“The problem is you’re my boss!”
“And I’m willing to overlook that,” he answered nonchalantly.
I threw my arms out in exasperation. “Well, I’m not!”
“Bet I could convince you.” He grinned and I felt it all the way down in my lady parts. So not good.
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “You can’t do serious, Rowan. And I can’t be like all your other women. I can’t do casual like that. It’s just not how I work. I don’t do one-night stands.”
He studied me for a moment as if I were a specimen under a microscope. “Are you a virgin?”
“What? No! Jesus! You think just because I’ve never had a one-night stand, I have to be a virgin?”
“It would make more sense.”
“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about!” I shouted. “You and I are on two totally different wave lengths. Hell, we might as well be on different planets.” I whipped my hand in between us. “This can never, ever happen.”
His growing silence as he stood there, watching me, only made me even more anxious. “You really feel strongly about this, don’t you?” he finally asked.
I breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally understanding. “Yes. I really, really do.”
Rowan came forward, backing me up until my butt hit the back of the couch. If not for his hands snaking around my waist and holding tight, I could have toppled over. “You want me, Navie. I felt it. The way you pressed against me, the way you kissed me—”
“You kissed me!”
“And you were with me every step of the way. You can’t deny that.”
I needed him to move. He was too close. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe correctly. Rowan’s presence snuffed out all rational thought, making me do and say things I’d soon regret. Reaching down to remove his hands from me, I sidestepped out of the way.
“Look,” I started, able to breathe again once there was space between us. “I can’t deny it, okay. I am attracted to you.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face. “But…” I continued, and that smile disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared, “…it doesn’t matter. Attracted or not, this can’t happen. Please, Rowan, I’m asking you, just let this go. If you don’t, I’m going to have to quit, and I really don’t want to do that. I’m finally starting to like my job,” I ended on a joke, trying my best to defuse the tension in the room. Unfortunately, the joke fell flat.
With a defeated sigh, Rowan put his hands on his hips and dropped his head for several seconds before looking back up at me. “Okay,” he finally said after what felt like an eternity of silence.
“Okay?”
“I’m not going to force myself on you,” he insisted defensively.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I get it,” he said. “You’re not comfortable. And honestly, I’d rather not lose you as my assistant if I can help it.”
It almost felt too easy, and from the carefree way he simply gave up, I was having trouble taking what he said at face value. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But that being said, I expect you to be at work tomorrow.”
“Okay, I can do that.” I felt a sense of relief, despite that small niggling doubt in the back of my head. Deciding that was a bridge I’d cross if and when I got there, I pushed it to the back of my mind and took comfort in my world going back to normal, at least somewhat.
Instead of leaving like I expected, Rowan looked around my and Harlow’s little apartment, taking everything in, and I suddenly wished I’d taken the time to clean. Our place wasn’t dirty, but Harlow and I weren’t all that great at putting things where they belonged.
“What’s that?” he asked, walking over to my little work desk where I kept everything I needed to make jewelry.
“Oh, uh…” I stumbled, suddenly feeling exposed as he looked over the things that meant so much to me.
Rowan picked up the hammered metal cuff I’d been working on. I had spent long, tedious hours getting the copper leaves just right. I was extremely proud of the bracelet—it was one of my favorite pieces—but having him scrutinize my work made me feel itchy. “Um… yeah. I made all of that,” I answered, waving my hand to encompass everything on the table.
My lungs stuttered painfully in my chest until he looked up at me in awe. “These are amazing. Why the hell are you working as my assistant?” He held the bracelet up in his left hand. “This is what you should be doing! I bet you could make a fortune off this stuff.”
Despite my heart flipping with joy at his praise, I felt the familiar discomfort that came with people examining my work. That was one of the things that held me back in pursuing a career in jewelry making. Despite having grown from the meek little girl, always in need of saving, that was the one area of my life I still let fear dictate. But still, that wasn’t the main reason I held myself back, only selling a handful of pieces online occasionally. It was fear.
Shrugging, I answered honestly, pointing at the table. “There’s no guarantee of success with that. I’d rather have a job where I could count on my next paycheck, you know? I guess I just need the security.”
“Did your parents have money problems?”
Wringing my hands in front of me, I kept my eyes trained on the ground at my feet. “Nah, I didn’t grow up with my parents.”
“Other relatives?” he asked. When I looked back up, his head was tilted to the side in curiosity.
Sucking in a lungful of air, I tried my best to sound aloof. “I grew up in foster care.”
Before I could blink, he was standing in front of me, his fingers brushing my cheek so softly it was just a whisper against my skin. “Shit, Navie. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It really wasn’t a big deal,” I lied. I was in desperate need of a change of subject. “So… are we good now? I’ll be back at work tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He smiled, taking a step back and tucking his hands into his pockets. “We’re good.”
“And no more overt sexual advances?”
“You have my word,” he promised. “No more overt sexual advances.”
I should have been relieved. I should have been happy that we’d come to an agreement I could live with. What I couldn’t understand was why I was overcome with disappointment. Pushing it aside, I plastered a smile on my face and held out my hand for him to shake. The moment his large, rough palm touched mine, I shivered. “See you tomorrow, boss,” I offered flippantly.
Rowan chuckled from deep in his chest. “See you tomorrow, Navie.” Then he did something that stunned me. Using our clasped hands, he pulled me forward, closing the remaining inches between us, and placed a lingering kiss on my cheek. “Feel better,” he murmured in my ear. He grinned as he stepped away and headed for the door. As soon as it closed behind him, I lifted my hand and pressed it against my cheek where he’d kissed me. I spent the remainder of the night feeling that kiss on my skin as if it had just happened.