Releasing a heavy sigh, I mentally search for a way to say this that doesn’t end with my face getting slapped. “Here’s the thing. We were convenient. We leaned on each other while we avoided real relationships.”
Her optimism falls, and she takes a step back. “I see. And here I thought what we had was nice. Am I the only one who remembers it fondly?”
I keep my mouth shut, because I think agreeing will only encourage her more. Plus, I’m going to be late for my one o’clock meeting if I don’t get back upstairs.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to run.”
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she nods. “Good luck.”
Once inside my office, I realize I have five minutes before the conference call starts, so I grab the stack of papers from my briefcase that I lifted on Friday night from Camryn’s place. I’m sure she’ll want to kill me when she finds out, but that’s just something I’ll have to deal with.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Camryn
“So you’re trying to tell me someone broke into your apartment and stole all your bills?” Olivia asks, wide-eyed.
I nod. “Yep.”
Her expression is one of disbelief, but she closes her mouth and stares straight ahead, blinking.
We’re at the gym, walking around the track that’s elevated over the entire workout area below. Before she was a married woman, we used to love this vantage point for scoping out the hot guys below. Now, we just walk.
Well, I still look, because hello, I’m not dead.
“You probably just misplaced them,” Olivia says.
I know that’s not true. They were on my dining table right before . . .
Sterling! If he saw those bills and late notices, I’ll die of embarrassment. I can only imagine what he must think of me. It’s been days since we talked, and honestly, I’m not sure what to think. Last weekend I set him up for that date, and then afterward he came over and we made out like a couple of horny teenagers. I’m sure he’s just busy with work, but still, a girl can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.
I told him to go after the woman he was interested in, assuming that he meant me. But now, this radio silence has left me unsure. For all I know, maybe he’s still hung up on his ex.
My cell phone buzzes against my thigh. I pull it from the pocket of my spandex workout capris and see it’s a text from a certain sexy British troublemaker.
Sterling: Are you free on Saturday? I’d love to hang out again.
A smirk pulls up my lips.
Camryn: Is “hang out” a euphemism for . . .
Sterling: Dessert? Yes. Be at my place at seven.
My breath catches in my throat as his bold words stare back at me.
“What is it?” Olivia asks, sensing the change in my mood.
“Nothing,” I lie.
With trepidation, I realize this Saturday night could change everything. Three more days until I figure out, finally, what is going through Sterling’s mind.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sterling
Standing in front of my bathroom vanity, I tuck a towel around my waist. After shaving, I rinse my face and apply a splash of cologne to my neck.
My thoughts wander to Camryn, and the level of anticipation I have for tonight is through the roof. All day, my imagination has been running wild with thoughts of what may happen tonight.
Tonight, there’s only one thing I know for certain—I want her.
Finally, I run some product through my hair, then get dressed. She’ll be here any minute, and though my thoughts are far from innocent, I doubt she’ll be amused to show up and find me naked.
I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m falling for her hard. And I also know there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’m in uncharted territory, but fuck it, I’m going with my gut. Just like Noah advised, I’m going to be a motherfucking grizzly.
Besides, I have five months to wed, which means I have time to see where things might go with Camryn. If it doesn’t work, I still have time to marry.
I can’t lose.
My doorman buzzes, and I punch the button on the intercom. A few moments later, I open the front door just in time to watch an unsure-looking Camryn step off the lift.
“Hey there,” I murmur, and her gaze darts up to meet mine.
Expectant energy crackles in the space between us. Camryn, looking more beautiful than ever, crosses the hall and steps inside.
“Hi.” She’s quiet and contemplative tonight, and I can’t help but wonder how much of that trepidation is for what may transpire tonight between us.
We grab a couple of bottles of water, and since it’s gotten too chilly to enjoy the balcony, we sit together on the couch.
“Does it ever get to you . . . what you do for a living?” she asks.
“Of course it does.”
“I’m sorry, that was . . . I shouldn’t have—”
“You have this bad habit of apologizing when you don’t need to.”
“I’m sorry.” Her face breaks into a cheeky grin. “Shit. I did it again, didn’t I?”
I nod. “Yes, now quit. You can ask me about anything you like. I don’t want you feeling like you have to walk on eggshells around me.”
She opens her mouth, presumably to say I’m sorry, and I shake my head at her, laughing.
Sorry, she mouths with a smirk.
I lunge at her, pinning her under me on the couch, and begin tickling her waist. I dig my fingers into her ribs as I unleash the wrath of my playful fury.