19. Kian

19

KIAN

L orelei's sweet scent floods my senses as her hair tickles the side of my face.

Fuck. This was a bad idea.

But as my hand slides against hers, I realize that it's too late.

If I back away now, she's going to know.

Fuck my life.

"Hold them a little more like…this," I say, my breath racing over her exposed throat.

She sits frozen. I'm not even sure she's breathing as I adjust her chopsticks so she'll stand a chance of picking up some food.

"Now, if you…" I take control of her movement and lower her hand to the container sitting in her lap. "That's it. Got it?"

She nods. The movement is so slight that I wouldn't see it if I weren't so close.

"Now, lift it and—" I swallow thickly as we push the food into her mouth and her full lips close around the chopsticks.

"That wasn't so hard," she says before glancing back at me over her shoulder.

"N-no, not hard at all," I mutter before shifting to my side of the couch and turning my attention back to the sweet and sour pork I should be eating.

No more words are said as the game continues playing on the TV, the air so thick around us it's hard to draw in a breath let alone eat.

Thanks to her little celebration earlier, I've figured out that her little brother must be number thirteen, Kemp.

He's good. Really good.

"Does your brother want to go pro?" I ask when I'm confident I can speak without my voice sounding all desperate and pathetic.

"Yeah," Lorelei muses, keeping her eyes on the screen, watching as her brother calls a play. "That's his plan, anyway. He's got scouts watching this game. He's nervous as fuck."

"He isn't showing it."

"Knew he wouldn't. He was born to do this."

I nod, watching the play he called turn into a seamless touchdown.

A wave of nostalgia hits me from watching every single high school game Kieran played back in the day.

"He's important to you," I state. It's not a question—it doesn't need to be. Love and pride ooze from her.

"He's my little brother. Of course." She glances at me briefly, and for the first time, I realize that her guard is down.

If it's possible, she's even more breathtaking.

"Annoying little shits, aren't they?" I joke.

She laughs, and it's light and genuine in a way that makes my chest contract.

"Yeah," she agrees before we both fall silent again as we watch his team obliterate the opposition.

"He should be really proud of that performance," I say, breaking our stalemate once the final whistle blows and his team piles themselves on top of him in celebration.

"He's meant to call me, but?—"

"He'll forget in favor of celebrating?" I guess.

"Yeah. He's a little wild. Works hard and parties harder."

I smirk. I know it well. "Nothing wrong with that."

"I don't want to be an auntie yet," she says under her breath.

"I think you'll be okay. He looks like he has his head screwed on. He just commanded that entire game and barely broke a sweat. He's not gonna risk screwing up his future."

Abandoning her food container on the coffee table, she turns to look at me.

Her lips part, but for a few seconds, no words spill free. She studies me in a way she hasn't before, and I can't help but wonder if she's seeing something different, just like I am with her.

"I hope you're right," she says before she begins tidying up. "We should probably carry on or we'll still be here doing this in the morning."

I watch her as she places all the containers into the bag. "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll get rid of all this on the way."

Wordlessly, I watch her go.

The second the door closes behind her, I push to my feet and stalk to the windows.

It's dark out now, and all the buildings are lit up around us.

There are people in their apartments going about their evenings. I stand there and watch as some prepare dinner in their kitchens and others get ready for nights out.

It's something I've spent too much time doing since moving into this office.

I find it fascinating, watching others live their lives, completely unaware that they've got a spectator.

I scan the windows, searching for people, and I quickly come to a stop when I find a couple dancing in the middle of their living room.

I might be too far away to see any detail, but it's more than obvious that they're laughing.

I'm so lost in their moment that I don't hear Lorelei step back into the room, and it's not until she speaks, startling me, that I realize she's standing beside me.

"And here you were worried about me watching porn at work."

"W-what are you?—"

She jerks her chin to the left and I scan the windows again.

"Oh shit." I laugh when I find something I hadn't before.

A couple going at it against the window.

"No wonder you have those fancy darkening windows on this office. What exactly do you do in here?"

"Unfortunately, not that," I mutter before ripping my eyes away from the show.

"I find that hard to believe."

"What is that meant to mean?" I snap as she returns to the paperwork neatly piled up on the coffee table.

"You have a reputation, Kian. I'm sure that's not news to you."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I'm fucking in my office on the regular."

"I didn't say anything about regularity," she says with a smirk.

"Put all that down, I'm taking you home," I say, making a rash decision.

She freezes instantly and looks up at me. "But I thought you wanted this done."

"I do. But it's Friday, it's late, and…you should call your brother and congratulate him before he gets too drunk."

"Wow, that's very…thoughtful of you."

I laugh. "I have my moments. Now, get your stuff together before I change my mind."

Without wasting a second, Lorelei begins tidying up and then rushes from the room. After shutting down my computer and grabbing my jacket, I follow to ensure she doesn't bolt from the building the second she's out of my sight.

"I'll give you a lift h-home," I stutter when I find her with her ass up in the air, pulling her purse out from beneath the desk.

"That's not necessary, but I appreciate the offer. The bus is due in five min?—"

"No," I bark, a little more aggressively than I was expecting. "I'll take you home."

Placing her purse and new laptop bag over her shoulder, she turns to stare at me.

She wants to argue—I can practically hear the words falling from her lips. But she can't.

She knows as well as I do that she doesn't want to get the bus.

Not when I've got a perfectly good car sitting in the underground parking lot.

"Thank you," she finally whispers through gritted teeth.

Silently, we step into the elevator, and no sooner have we started moving than Lorelei lifts her cell to read a message.

"Your brother?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says as another of those genuine smiles appears on her lips.

"Are they local?" I ask, needing to find out more about her. I didn't recognize the high schools, but that doesn't mean they're not close.

When I told her that I'd done my research, I wasn't lying. But I kept it focused on her life here, and admittedly, I got most of the intel from her best friend one night when I had dinner with her and King.

"No," she replies curtly.

"Do you have any other siblings?"

"What is this?" she snaps. "Twenty questions?"

"Just trying to get to know you better," I confess.

"You know everything you need to know."

Her cell buzzes again, but this time when she lifts it up, a smile doesn't form. Instead, she frowns.

"Everything okay?" I ask before thinking.

She turns to look at me as the elevator descends the last few floors.

"Fucking brilliant," she hisses before stepping from the enclosed space the second the doors open.

"O-okay," I mutter. "My car is this way." I point out as she takes off randomly through the empty parking lot.

With a huff of irritation, she spins on her heels and begins following me.

"Why am I not surprised?" she says as all the lights on my Maserati illuminate when I unlock it.

"Not a fan?" I ask with a smirk.

"Of over-the-top shows of wealth and pretense? No, not really."

I want to point out that she probably still has time to catch her bus, but I keep my lips sealed.

Stopping at the passenger side of the car, I pull the door open and wait.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone you got in and actually enjoyed your ride."

She raises a brow. "I can guarantee you that I won't."

"We'll see," I say, closing her in the second her ass hits the seat.

Damn, she looks good sitting there.

"That doesn't impress me," she sneers when I bring the engine to life. Admittedly, I do rev it a little more than I usually would, but only because I know it's going to cause a reaction. Something I'm becoming more and more addicted to achieving with Lorelei.

"No?" I ask, glancing over at her with a shit-eating grin on my face. "What about this?"

I slam my foot on the gas and the car races forward, throwing us both back into our seats. Lorelei squeals, her grip on the leather so tight her knuckles turn white.

"If I thought I was going to be risking my life getting in here with you, then I definitely would have got the bus."

"Nah, the bus is boring. Life is about living."

"Oh my god," she whimpers as I race through the empty parking lot like it's my own personal race track. "Where the hell did you learn to drive like this?" she demands.

My lips part, but she beats me to it.

"Wait, don't tell me. You had race car training as a kid. Same year you vacationed in China, I bet."

I chuckle. "Yes, actually. Although it wasn't the same year as China. A couple later."

"Of course. Can you please—fuck," she gasps as I bring the car to an abrupt stop before pulling out onto the street.

"Everything okay over there?" I tease.

"Great. Just great. If you could slow down a little, that would be—shiiit, Kian," she screams when I take off again.

"Getting your heart rate up is good for the soul," I tell her as I ease the car around the corner.

"I can think of better ways of making that happen," she cries.

Sadly, we hit congestion and I'm forced to slow down.

"Thank fuck for that," she mutters, finally releasing her grip on the seat.

"Didn't have you down as the kind of woman who shies away from a little adrenaline."

"There's adrenaline and then there's fearing for your life. Two very different things."

"If you say so."

"Do you remember where I live?"

"Please, give me some credit, Lorelei."

"Fine," she hisses before her cell goes off again.

She groans at whatever she finds waiting for her.

"You sure everything is okay?"

"Brilliant."

"He's not drunk already, is he?" I tease.

"No, it's not my brother, it's—" She slams her lips closed.

"It's…" I prompt.

"None of your business. Here is great," she says the second we pull onto her street.

"Absolutely not. I'm not leaving you on a street corner on a Friday night."

"You're also not walking me to my door. You can forget it."

"We'll see," I tease.

"Yeah, we will."