“I want to.” Brock walked beside me, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as we headed for the stairs. Luckily, I was on the third floor. Any further, I so wouldn’t have taken the apartment. He looked around, scanning the parking lot and the apartments with soft glows illuminating from their windows. “It’s quiet here.”
“It is.” Holding his jacket closed, I trailed my hand along the railing as we climbed the outdoor stairs. “I imagine at your new place it really is.”
“The only thing you hear are birds and what I’m convinced is a bobcat or some shit.”
I laughed. “A bobcat?”
“I’m telling you, sometimes in the middle of the night, you hear some weird shit. Other than that, it’s pretty amazing.” He paused as we rounded the second level. “You should check it out.”
Glancing over at him, I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was it a friendly offer? Or more? And why would I think it would be more? I had no idea, so I just nodded.
He didn’t say anything as we reached the third level and headed down the wide hall. My apartment was all the way to the end, on the corner. We stopped, and for some reason, my heart started pounding like I’d climbed way more than three flights of stairs.
“Well, thank you for . . . um, walking me up here.” Dipping my chin, I dug my keys out from the bottom of my purse and then looked up. “And for . . .”
I trailed off, because Brock stepped into me, so close that the toes of his shoes brushed against mine.
“And for . . . ?” he queried softly.
I had no idea what I had been about to say. A little dazed, I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “For driving me around today like my own personal chauffeur.”
“I enjoyed it.” Brock’s smile was brief as he glanced at my door, and then his shoulders rose with a deep breath. “I think I missed my calling.”
“Really?” I said wryly.
“Yeah. I could quit my job as GM. Get one of your uncles back down here and just dedicate my entire life to driving you around.”
I shook my head. “You know, that doesn’t sound bad actually. I hate driving.”
One eyebrow rose. “I thought you liked driving?”
“I used to, but now I pretty much only drive just to get back and forth from work, and that kind of sucks the fun out of it.”
“I can see that.” He paused. “You tired?”
“Um . . .” I was so articulate.
His grin returned. “If not, I thought maybe we could share a . . . drink.”
“I . . . I don’t have anything good to drink. I mean, I have a bottle of wine that’s unopened, but it’s like the cheap wine that really doesn’t do anything other than give you a headache,” I rambled on, pulse pounding. “I also have some soda and coffee, but—”
“Water or soda would be fine,” he said with a laugh.
I opened my mouth and my lips moved wordlessly for a few seconds. “Are you wanting to . . . wanting to come in?”
“Yeah. I’m wanting to come in, Jillian.”
He wanted to come in, and my mind took that down a long and dirty road. I looked up at him and I had to crane my neck, because he was standing that close. A sudden thick tension sprung alive, filling the tiny space between us. Our gazes locked once more. Neither of us moved or spoke. His lips parted on a quick, shallow inhale. My chest rose in a deep, shaky breath. What was happening here? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t completely naïve. He was looking at me in a way he hadn’t when we were younger, and that didn’t make sense.
And I had a feeling if I let Brock in, I would begin to see things that were there, and that was so dangerous for us—for me.
Wetting my lips, I looked away just as his gaze sharpened. “It’s really late.”
“It’s not too late,” he said in a voice that stretched my nerve endings.
My heart leapt into my throat. “I just . . . I don’t think it would be smart.”
One side of his lips kicked up. “Some of the best things start off as not being very smart. Like when I tried to rob your father.”
A surprised laugh burst out of me. “That wasn’t smart, and you’re lucky that worked out in your favor.”
“So true.” His head lowered, and I tensed, thinking that he just might be getting ready to do something really not smart.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
So not something a boss should do.
But I didn’t really care about that as I stood still before him.
His warm breath danced over my cheek and then it stirred the wisps of hair around my temple. “But you’re right.”
Relief and disappointment battled inside me as I found myself nodding jerkily. I let myself in, not daring to look at him as I closed the door behind me and locked it. Only then, as I rested my forehead against the door, did I realize his jacket was still draped over my shoulders.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Somewhere behind me, Rhage meowed pitifully.
I didn’t move, because a part of me was still out in the hall, standing there, seriously considering letting Brock in. And that part of me was an incredibly stupid part, because I was desperate to know what would’ve happened if I had let him in.
* * *
My stomach felt jittery and nervous as I walked into my office Thursday morning and sat behind my desk.
I didn’t know how Brock was going to behave today after asking to come into my apartment. I’d had a hell of a time trying to fall asleep last night, because my mind wouldn’t shut down.