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I scowl. “You skipped di
“Umm…how did you know that?” The color of her cheeks somehow intensifies.
Yeah, Rowan. How did you know? Fuck. I keep messing up tonight. Who knew keeping up two personalities would be this difficult?
“You’re still here working.”
“Right. I’m about to wrap up soon so I’ll just—” Her stomach grumbles even louder, and my blood turns into lava, pumping furiously at the pace of my heart.
I pull out my phone. “How do you feel about Chinese food?”
Her mouth gapes apart. “Umm…it’s good?”
I dial a local place I have saved after too many late nights working. I’m not sure what Zahra likes, so I order one of everything. It’s probably overkill, but I’d rather have her eat something she likes.
I hang up to find Zahra still gawking at me. “What?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t expect you to buy me di
“I’m hungry. You can have the leftovers,” I respond as if that solves everything.
“But I’m pretty sure you ordered the entire restaurant.”
I remain standing in silence.
Her brows pull together before she wipes away whatever look is on her face. “All right. So why are you thinking of getting rid of our oldest ride?” She drops onto the floor where she has an entire array of Post-its, pieces of paper, markers, and more.
Right. The opinion I wanted.
I follow suit and lean against the back partition of the cubicle.
Zahra laughs to herself as I remove my suit jacket and throw it beside my legs.
“What’s so fu
She waves at my body like it solves my question. “You’re sitting on the floor.”
I look down at myself. “And?”
“It’s weird.” She crosses her legs.
I ignore her. “It’s an old ride. I’m not sure if it’s worth keeping.”
She sucks in a breath. “You have to be joking! Is it worth keeping?!”
I nod, knowing this kind of question could stir up an hour-long conversation. And it does just that. While we wait for the delivery, Zahra spends the time explaining the history behind my grandfather’s first ride, as if I wasn’t aware. She goes into great detail, touching upon all the reasons we shouldn’t dare change a single thing. I find myself smiling more than usual because her enthusiasm and passion is contagious.
I’m somewhat disappointed when the food arrives because it cuts her off.
“Did you really need to order the whole menu?”
I shrug. “Wasn’t sure what you liked.”
She looks at me with a pinched expression. “And why didn’t you ask me?” She grabs two carton boxes from the bag and presses them against her chest with a sigh.
I stay silent and pluck a box of fried rice from the bag. Zahra passes me a plastic-wrapped fork and we both dive in.
She lets out the tiniest moan as she takes a bite of her food. I feel the sound straight to my cock, and blood starts rushing to a place it doesn’t belong.
I take a deep breath. “Why were you here so late? Really?”
She points over her shoulder at the mason jar filled with Post-its. “I was working on a new idea.”
“And?”
“And I lost track of time.”
“Does this happen often?”
She shrugs. “I don’t have much else going on.”
“What do you like to do for fun?” The question sounds natural as if I care about other activities besides work. Maybe Ani is rubbing off on me with her personal questions.
Zahra smiles. “I like to read.”
“For fun?”
She ends up throwing her head back and laughing. My whole chest warms at the idea of making her laugh like that, and a little kernel of pride swells within me.
“Yes. Some people read for something other than work.” She speaks breathlessly. “What do you like to do when you’re not working?”
Text you. “I run.”
“Figures.” She rolls her eyes.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. “What does that mean?”
She clears her throat like it can hide the way her cheeks turn the lightest pink color. “Nothing. You have a ru
Hmm. She’s been checking me out.
“Not that I check you out or anything,” she stammers, and her cheeks only redden more.
I sit up taller, pleased with this new development. “Right.”
“Only a masochist runs for fun.”
“It clears my head.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, making my lungs burn from the rush of oxygen.
Zahra grins. “It’s a shame you don’t laugh more often.”
Because I don’t have many things to laugh about. I tug at my tie, loosening its hold around my neck. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I kind of like the fact that it’s a rarity because it makes it even more special.” Her smile is infectious, making the corners of my lips turn up in return.
No one has called my laugh special. Hell, I don’t think I’ve been labeled special in any other way that wasn’t derogatory. It makes me feel…good. Appreciated. Valued in a way that has nothing to do with how much money I make or what kind of job I have.
I want to see myself like she sees me. Because in her eyes, I don’t feel like I’m a man carrying an entire mountain of expectations on my shoulders. I’m just Rowan, the kind of guy who sits on a floor in a pair of expensive slacks, eating takeout from a carton and loving every second of it.
It hits me, as Zahra grins at me, that I want more of this with her. I need to find a way to make it happen without drawing attention to the fact that I’m two different people in her life.
If only I knew how.