* * *
Tuesday afternoon, close to three, my office phone dinged, signaling an internal call. I glanced over and saw the GM button was lit up. A smile tugged at my lips as I picked it up.
“Yes?”
“Need to see you,” Brock said through the phone and then promptly hung up.
I shivered at the sharp bite of desire. Telling myself to chill and that his need to see me surely was work-related, I locked my computer as I toed my heels back on and then rose. Standing, I smoothed the skirt of the beige dress I’d found in the back of my closet.
I really needed to go shopping for clothes.
Brock had stayed late at the Academy last night, so I hadn’t seen him after I left work and before I returned this morning. He had texted last night, telling—not asking—me to have nice dreams of him.
It was so corny that I’d laughed out loud when I saw it.
The text, the kiss yesterday he stole while he came in my office before I left, the entire weekend and all that he’d done—none of it felt real. Which was why, when I chatted with Abby last night and made plans to see her when I was home, I hadn’t mentioned what was happening with him. Maybe by then I could.
The floor was mostly quiet as I walked the short distance to Brock’s office. At this time of day, most of the staff were either on the gym floor or on the second level, but since the offices had closed tonight for a long five-day weekend, I was sure some had already snuck out. Tucking my hair back behind my right ear, I slipped into his office.
“Close the door behind you,” he ordered when I stepped in.
Stomach flipping all over the place, I did as he demanded. “What’s up?”
Brock hit a few keys on his keyboard and then pushed his chair back from the desk. His gaze drifted over me, and he had this way of looking at you that made you feel like you were stripped bare and completely exposed.
He didn’t say anything. He just sat in his chair, his position the epitome of arrogant laziness, as he eyed me.
I stopped by one of the chairs, feeling my cheeks start to warm. “You getting ready to train with the guys?” I asked, noting the nylon pants and Lima shirt. He hadn’t been wearing that the last time I’d seen him.
“For a bit,” he answered, resting his arms on the chair and clasping his hands together. “But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”
“Okay?”
A mysterious, sexy little half-grin appeared on his lips. “Come here.”
I hesitated. “I am here.”
“Closer,” he added, nodding toward his desk.
My gaze flew to it. Did he want me to sit on the desk? Well, that seemed wildly inappropriate.
His chin dipped and he waited patiently while I either worked up the nerve to make my way over to him or run out of the office, my face the color of a tomato.
“I’m not going to bite.” He paused and then added, “Not right away, at least.”
My lips pursed together and then I glanced over at the door. It was closed. No one would walk right in. No one here would dare barge into the Beast’s office.
Brock was still waiting on me.
Calling on every ounce of courage I had, I forced my legs forward. To some, this wasn’t a big deal, but with Brock, I was way out of my element. Hell, with most guys I was way out of my element. The whole time my heart pounded. I walked around the edge of the desk and stopped in front of him. My gaze dipped, and I sucked in a deep breath that went nowhere.
Brock was hard.
I could totally see that, because his nylon pants did nothing to hide all that he had going on down there. My gaze flew to his.
The grin on his face spread. “So, I’ve been thinking about something.”
“You have?” I asked doubtfully. With that massive of an erection there was probably only one thing he was thinking about.
“Laid awake most of the night,” he said, tipping his head back. “It’s about something you said to me this weekend.”
I’d said a lot of things this weekend. Leaning back against his desk, I folded my hands over the smooth edge. “I’m going to need a little more detail.”
“You said you wanted to start really living. I want to help you do that.”
My heart turned over heavily in response to his statement. “I’m pretty sure you already did.”
“Yeah. I did. But that was just one thing. Don’t get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Can’t wait to get my mouth between your legs again,” he told me, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. Holy crap, he said that like we were discussing the weather or something. He leaned forward, unclasping his hands. “What have you done since you left me?”
Left him? Did he really think that I left him? I never thought of that way, but I guess he could. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You went to school for a little while and you’ve worked. I know that. What else have you done?”
I opened my mouth to tell him, but I came up empty. There was nothing to tell him. Nothing. It was like I was this blank canvas. Nothing on the outside or inside. A knot formed in my throat and my eyes suddenly burned.
“Hey,” he said quietly, clasping my hips in his large hands. “It’s okay.”
“Yeah. Of course.” I cleared my throat. “I’m okay.”
His solemn gaze searched mine. “I’m not asking that question to upset you.”
“I know.” And I did.
Brock’s hands tightened. “Do you remember sitting out on your parents’ swing and talking about all the places you wanted to visit?”