10. Hannah

TEN

Crouched next to my chair, I pull open the bottom drawer of my desk.

Apparently, the companies were preparing for this merger for a lot longer than anyone told us, because the office upstairs is ready for us to start moving in on Monday. Hence me spending my Friday morning packing all my stuff.

Annoyance flares every time I think about it.

It's not like I would've quit just because Maddox was going to be the new owner. Well, truthfully, I might've. But now we'll never know. Because no one told us. But at the very least, I could have prepared myself better.

Never thought I'd think this, but thank god for Brandon. If he hadn't come into my office before my interview, I would've walked into that situation entirely blind.

I shove a handful of files into the box.

I didn't see any signs of Maddox yesterday, so I just need to get through the rest of today, then I can have the weekend to stew over my current predicament.

"Need a hand?"

The deep voice startles me, and I start to tip.

My arm jerks out in response, and I bang my elbow against the edge of the desk before losing my balance completely and ending up on my butt.

"Shit!" I grab my elbow with my opposite hand and rub at the pain as I sit on the floor.

"Hannah?" Maddox's voice moves closer until he's looking at me over the top of my desk.

Perfect. The exact man I was hoping to avoid today.

"You alright?" The large man takes a step around the side of the desk.

I stop rubbing my elbow to hold up my hand, palm out.

He takes one more step before halting. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't." I don't know why I deny it. It's obvious he did. I'm on the floor, after all.

"Of course not." He presses his lips into a line, and I think the jerk is trying not to smile. "I forgot how accident prone you can be."

My mouth pops open, but before I can snap something at him, he bends down, hooks his hands under my arms, and lifts me to my feet.

A small sound croaks out of my throat as my heart stutters in my chest.

He shifts his hands so he's gripping my upper arms, steadying me.

His scent surrounds me as we stand chest to chest.

It's different than it used to be. Still soap and cologne, but more… grown up.

It's too much.

Being this close… having him reference our history… it's just all too much.

How dare he?

My nose starts to tingle.

I can't let him have this control over me again.

My cheeks start to burn.

"Hannah." His tone is gentle. And it's worse than the teasing.

I straighten my shoulders. "I don't know what you're referring to, Mr. Lovelace."

He narrows his eyes the tiniest bit as he takes a step back. But instead of just dropping his hands, he trails his fingers down the backs of my arms, ghosting them over my hurt elbow. "Sure you don't."

Goose bumps dance across my skin, but I ignore them. "Was there something you needed?"

Maddox crosses his arms over his massive chest, the fabric of his sleeves stretched tight over his biceps.

I don't want to notice how good he looks. But again, he's in a plain shirt and dark slacks, and he looks dangerously handsome.

I take a small step back.

He seems taller than he was in college, but maybe it's just that he stands with even more confidence.

Mad Dog Maddox was impressive in his twenties, but in his thirties, he's a force.

I cross my own arms, wanting to match his power pose.

My maroon and white striped shirt is buttoned all the way up, unlike Maddox's, and at my collar are two long strips of fabric I've tied into a bow. It's cute, but it's also a shirt I wear often, so no one will think I'm trying too hard to dress up on a casual Friday. Because I'm not wearing this for Maddox. I'm not trying to impress him at all. And if I have the loose-fitted shirt tucked into my snug but stretchy ankle jeans, that's because it's comfortable and has nothing to do with me thinking my butt looks good in these pants.

Unwanted, a memory flashes in my mind of seeing Maddox on TV at some charity event with a stunning super-model-looking woman on his arm.

I cross my arms tighter across my body.

I have body-image issues like anyone, but I've learned to be comfortable in my skin. I've taught myself that all bodies are good bodies. I've made sure Chelsea has grown up in a home where no one is shamed for the way they look. And all of that makes me hate this self-conscious feeling even more.

I don't want to feel like this.

I won't let anyone make me feel like this.

Heaving out a breath, I drop my arms.

It's not a power stance if I'm using it to hide.

"Knock, kno—" Brandon starts from the doorway. "Uh, Hannah?"

Maddox's oversized frame is blocking me entirely from Brandon's view.

I step to the side, careful not to trip over my box of files, and look at my coworker. "I'm here."

His eyes go to the back of Maddox, then to me. I don't miss the way Maddox is ignoring Brandon's presence.

"Just, um, wanted to see if you'd like to go out to lunch."

This isn't the first time Brandon's asked me. I've always said no in the past because I don't want him to take it the wrong way, but I'm really tempted to accept today. Simply to get out of this situation.

Then Brandon adds, "A bunch of us are going."

Sold.

"I'd love to come."

Inwardly, I roll my eyes at the smug look on Brandon's face.

I've made it as clear as possible over the years that I'm not interested in knowing him outside of work. And he just invited me to a work lunch, with a bunch of other people, so there's no reason at all for him to look like he's won something.

But whatever. Not my problem if he wants to be dumb.

"Everyone leaving now?" I ask while I use my foot to kick the bottom drawer closed.

"Yeah." Brandon nods. "Heading over to Puck Off, that hockey-themed place with the good lunch specials."

Finally, Maddox turns away from me to face Brandon.

Maddox lifts a brow. "Hockey?"

Brandon grins. "No offense."

Men.

Taking the opening, I snag my purse from atop my desk and step around Maddox.

I've just made it past him, taken one step beyond his position, when he speaks.

"I'll meet you there."