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Zahra
Scott hasn’t answered my thank you text yet and it’s been a whole hour since Rowan stopped by and nearly kissed me.
And you almost let him. Maybe it’s the way his eyes lock on my lips. Or how my entire body inappropriately heats up whenever he gets too close.
I try to distract myself with working on my presentation but I find my mind drifting. It feels weird to not have spoken to Scott for an entire day, and I’m not sure what to make of that. He’s quickly becoming the first person I text in the morning and the last person I speak to before falling asleep.
I might have no idea what he looks like but I know he has a good heart. I’m all about trusting my feelings and there’s something about Scott that tells me to keep trying, regardless of how shy he might be.
I shoot him a text message with my streaming logins and passwords, hoping to get his attention.
Me: If you comment on my Recently Watched shows, I swear I’ll murder you in your sleep.
Me: Once I find out your HP address of course.
I count the seconds that tick by based on the beat of my heart.
Nothing.
I shut off the ringer and throw my phone into one of the drawers of my desk, hoping the dark corners swallow it whole.
During my lunch break, I pull out my phone to find a few messages from Scott.
Scott: If you are trying to find out my location, I suggest starting with an IP address.
Scott: And I won’t judge too hard.
I grin like a goof at my phone.
Me: You’re totally judging.
Scott: Me? Never.
Scott: But do you recommend The Duke Who Seduced Me?
Me: Shut up.
Scott: That’s not nice.
Me: It’s for research purposes.
Amongst other things. I’m not about to reveal my obsession with Juliana De La Rosa and the TV adaptations of her books.
My phone buzzes.
Scott: Of course. You seem like a diligent Dreamland employee.
Something about the text has my cheeks burning.
Scott: Care to share why you have seventeen versions of Pride and Prejudice saved to your Recently Watched list?
Me: Consider it a virtual safety blanket.
Scott: But who needs seventeen versions of that movie?
Me: The same person who would be happy with eighteen.
Scott: You’re unique.
Me: Unique happens to be my middle name.
Scott: What happened to Ridiculously Amazing?
My heart squeezes in my chest like Scott wrapped his fist around it.
Me: You’ve been paying attention.
Scott: It’s easy when you’re an open book.
Me: Maybe I should play harder to get.
After minutes go by with no reply, I lay my head down against my desk. I’ve scared him away at the first sign of interest.
My phone buzzes.
Scott: Go ahead. I suffer from a nasty competitive streak.
Scott: But rest assured, I win every time.
Tiny little butterflies take flight in my stomach. Scott hasn’t openly flirted like this before.
Me: You sound mighty confident in your abilities for someone who hides behind a screen.
The message was supposed to carry a flirtatious tone but it falls flat. Minutes tick by without a reply and I grow more restless.
Did I push him too hard too fast? It was only supposed to be a joke.
The answer becomes evident as time goes by. Scott doesn’t answer my text for the rest of the day, and I’m left feeling empty.
Maybe I made him feel shitty about something he’s self-conscious about. He might struggle with body image issues or a bad case of social anxiety that I’m only making worse because I’m too curious for my own good. And the truth is, I’m starting to enjoy our friendship. I’d hate to scare him away, especially with how he made me feel giddy from one flirtatious message.
From this point on, I swear to not bother him about his identity. It doesn’t matter. Plus, I’m confident he will open up slowly if I give him time to warm up to me. If I could make Ralph, who hates everyone, smile then I can do anything.
Shit! I’m late! I shove my laptop and phone into my purse before exiting my cubicle.
The warehouse is empty as I run to the conference room. My breaths come out ragged and forced as I pull the door open, interrupting Je
“Tardiness will not be tolerated. If this happens again, you’ll be required to work additional hours to make up for it.” Rowan doesn’t bother looking up from his phone.
The dismissal makes me feel two inches small.
A quick assessment of the room reveals no available seats except for the one next to Rowan. This is the punishment I deserve for flirting instead of working.
Great. Fabulous. Today couldn’t be going any better.
“Take a seat or get out.” His authoritative tone rubs me the wrong way.
I keep my head held high as I take the unoccupied chair beside Rowan. The smell of him hits me first, like an ocean breeze I’d expect while vacationing somewhere like Fiji. I scoot my seat as far away from him as possible without disturbing the Creator next to me.
“Now that everyone is finally here, proceed.” Rowan motions for Je
My stomach dips.
Je
The group remains silent. No one rises from their chair as Je
“Come on, everyone.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Do I need to draw names out of a hat?”
Crickets. No one moves an inch.
“I’ll go.” I rise on wobbly legs that could give out at any second. Rowan looks up at me with his usual empty gaze before nodding. His dark eyes remind me of space—infinite, dangerous, and something I can get lost in.
I set up my PowerPoint with shaky hands. My stage fright has slightly improved since my first presentation, but the jitters still hit me, especially at the begi
The entire time I present, I ignore Rowan. That’s what he gets for treating me the way he did in front of everyone.
The Creators clap as I wrap up my last sentence, and I feel slightly better about everything that happened earlier.
“It could be better,” Rowan calls out.