Chapter 2: Too Close for Comfort

That evening, Eli took me to a business cocktail party.

The hotel ballroom was buzzing—clinking glasses, clouds of expensive cologne, and the low hum of networking. “Mr. Whitaker, here’s to you. Hope we can work together more in the future!”

A chubby, middle-aged man grinned, all fawning, at Eli.

Eli nodded with the air of someone in charge, barely smiling.

He pushed the glass toward me. I got the hint and picked it up.

“Mr. Turner, Mr. Whitaker can’t drink tonight, so I’ll drink for him.”

I downed the glass in one go.

People kept coming over to toast Eli, and I handled them all.

I can usually hold my liquor, but thanks to the sad, dry bagel I choked down that morning, I’d skipped lunch and drank way more than I should have.

My stomach started to protest.

“Mr. Whitaker, here’s to you.” Someone else came over.

I pressed my left hand hard against my stomach, silently mourning my fate, but picked up the glass anyway.

Eli took the glass from my hand and drank it himself, then turned to chat and laugh with others.

Well, I guess I wasn’t needed anymore.

I took the chance to grab some food, and my stomach felt much better.

As the new hire still on probation, I threw myself in front of Eli to shield him from more drinks.

But for some reason, his expression just got darker and darker.

After the party, I wobbled after Eli, barely able to walk straight.

I was about to face-plant when he caught me just in time.

I mumbled, “Th-thanks!”

“Still living in the same place?”

I grinned and nodded.

Eli sighed under his breath.

A black Tesla sped into the old apartment complex in the night.

The car’s headlights flickered across cracked pavement and faded numbers on the building. “Your boyfriend home?”

I blinked innocently at him. “Aren’t you here?”

Eli pushed my face away. “We’ve already broken up.”

Why did he sound like a bitter ex?

Suddenly, I started wailing and singing,

“Happy breakup to you—hope you’re happy, go find someone better…”

My off-key howling attracted quite a few stares.

Eli couldn’t take it anymore and just carried me upstairs in his arms.

In his embrace, I was anything but well-behaved, running my hands all over him.

“Where’s your six-pack? Why do you have a pimple?”

Eli’s voice was hoarse. “Cut it out!”

I kept at it, even pinching that pimple hard.

Eli grunted, then slung me over his shoulder like a sack.

He tossed me onto the bed like a rag doll.

In the struggle, several of my shirt buttons had come undone, leaving a swath of pale skin exposed.

Eli’s body responded before he could stop himself—he sucked in a sharp breath, jaw clenched.

I automatically started undressing on the bed, but couldn’t get my bra unclasped.

Click.

A cool hand undid the clasp.

The familiar touch sent a shiver right through me.

I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck, peering at his face and mumbling,

“Eli? No, wait, am I dreaming again?”

Eli’s lips curled up.

He leaned down, his low, rough voice in my ear. “Is this what you want?”

My ears went hot.

My eyes went soft. I nodded.

“You started this.”

He lowered himself, kissing me hard, like he’d been starving.

He didn’t stop, pulling me under again and again.

I felt weak all over, melting into the bed.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, who bathes in a dream…”

He didn’t let me finish, scooping me up and carrying me to the bathroom.

Eli turned on the shower, and soon, hot steam wrapped around us both.

He pressed me against the wall, the cold tiles making me shiver.

He bit my lower lip, his big hand caressing my waist.

Our breathing grew ragged again…

Morning sunlight streamed through the window, falling on the two of us tangled together.

A shrill ringtone shattered the peaceful scene.

Someone was shaking me hard.

Annoyed, I brushed his hand away, grumbling, “Leave me alone!”

But he wouldn’t give up, shaking me even harder.

“Your phone.”

A man’s voice? I snapped awake, sitting up with a jolt.

Eli tossed my phone to me, then started getting dressed.

Bang!

He slammed the door. I watched his back disappear before I finally came to my senses.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Remembering how wild things got, I grinned like an idiot for a long time.

The phone was still ringing relentlessly.

I picked it up, and my smile froze.

Caller ID: “Husband.” My jaw dropped. Great. Just great.