So Into You Page 2

  “Not a problem. Call me anytime. I’m always available.” And didn’t that sound like an invitation?

  Marc raised an eyebrow. “If the highlight of your day is me calling you to come to work, then you need to get out more, student loan payments be damned.”

  He spoke the truth, but it still stung. “Yeah, well, not all of us are lucky enough to—” I stopped. Fuck, I needed to keep my mouth shut. “Okay, well, I’ll see you Monday?” I grabbed my cell phone and walked toward the door.

  “Hey, wait. Let me walk with you.” So much for escaping.

  I pasted a smile on my face. I could do this. Only a few more minutes. “Sure. I’ll wait by the elevator.” I strode into the hallway and pressed the DOWN button.

  Marc appeared at my side shortly after and we rode to the lobby, where I got off, since he was going to the parking deck.

  “You need a ride home?” he asked, holding the doors open.

  “No, I’m okay, thanks. Going to the station. See you later.” I nodded to the security guard and headed out the door to the sidewalk. Ten minutes later, I was on the train and heading home.

  When I unlocked my apartment door, it was after ten. My phone beeped at me, so I checked it after I drank a bottle of water from the fridge. Marc had sent me a message, asking if I’d made it home okay. That made smile.

  I texted back that I was fine, and wished him a good night before falling into bed.

  * * * *

  Hans called me Sunday afternoon to announce that he had gotten laid by the same guy since Friday night, which was unusual for Mr. Schtup-And-Go. When I expressed this, he practically screamed, “You don’t understand!” Hans had me on speakerphone, so who knew what the neighbors were thinking right then. “This guy was hung and topped like a boss and let me fuck him, and I just needed more. A lot more.” He sounded almost…dreamy.

  “You’re in a relationship, then, by your standards,” I replied as I dusted the living room. I would vacuum sometime after the call.

  “I know!” Hans gushed. “He wants to meet up twice a week and maybe bring some friends to join the fun, from time to time. I’ve died and gone to paradise.”

  “What’s Mr. Paradise’s name?”

  “Lucky Prentiss. You should see this guy, Llew. My height, brown hair and gray eyes, a totally fuzzy bear. I’d say he was adorable if he wasn’t such a slut. Like me!” Hans giggled and I shook my head.

  “I guess I’m happy for you?” I said as I now focused on cleaning the bathroom.

  “You’d better be.” I heard him moving around in the background. “Did you at least have fun at the club on Friday night?”

  “Like you care,” I said, wiping down the sink.

  “Hey! I resent—”

  “It was okay,” I quickly cut in, heading off a rant in the making.

  “God. Tell me you got a phone number, or something, and you spent yesterday doing anything other than work.”

  “Nope, can’t. Marc called me in to work with him on a project.”

  “Well, that’s promising. Did you flirt a little? Say ‘yes.’”

  “No.” I sprinkled Comet cleanser in the toilet bowl, and grabbed the brush. “We were working.” And I acted like a dork, as usual.

  “Did he ask you anything personal?” Hans pressed, like a dog with a juicy bone.

  “Just what I did for fun. I didn’t have a good answer.”

  “Hopeless. Gotta go. Don’t give up!” Hans ended the call, and I finished the bathroom, then vacuumed the apartment.

  What was there to give up anyway? I didn’t think I’d made that much of an impression, and, even though there’s an open policy and we can date our co-workers, where was the line between showing interest and sexual harassment? What a mess.

  * * * *

  Marc wasn’t at his desk on Monday or Tuesday. John returned to work by Tuesday, and was happy, if exhausted-looking. He thanked me for picking up the slack over the weekend and gave me a pile of work that would take me weeks to plough through. It would keep my mind occupied, which was a good thing.

  Wednesday, when Marc returned to the office, he came over to my desk and sat on the edge. “What’s up, Llewellyn?”

  “Hey, Marc. Um, you can call me Llew. My friends do, uh, family, too. So, you know.” That sounded innocent enough, yes?

  Marc smiled. “Okay, then. Llew. I like that.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand over his super-short hair, which seemed like a nervous gesture, the kind I would make. Weird.

  “I wanted to thank you again for your help. The client was really excited about the analysis we produced, and her company will be sending more work our way in the future.”

  “That’s good to hear,” I replied, twiddling my pen and wishing I had at least run an iron over my dark gray long-sleeved shirt this morning. There was lint all over my black pants, too. Perhaps I could make a little effort.

  “We should celebrate, maybe tonight? A bunch of us are going to a club. Maybe you know it?” The name he gave was the one Hans and I had gone to the week before.

  “I do. Sure, I’d like that. I might be a little late, though, ‘cause I want to make a dent in this paperwork.” I gestured to my desk, half buried in documents.

  “Work can wait, Llew. It will always be there. Come have fun with us. We’ll meet at the club around nine, and you have permission to come in late tomorrow, if you need time to recover.” He stood. “That’s an order, by the way.” He winked at me, then went back to his desk.

  I guess I was going to the club.

  * * * *

  I had finally done laundry, so I wore a pair of jeans that I’d had since I was eighteen. Hate me, if you want to, but I couldn’t gain weight to save my life, or anyone else’s. The long-sleeved T-shirt I wore had the logo of my alma mater, and it was faded, but comfortable. If Marc or any of my co-workers were expecting me to be trendy, they would be disappointed.

  When I entered the club, the music was still loud, like last time, but it was marginally less obnoxious. I recognized Marc and some of the staff on the other side of the bar and went in that direction.

  “Llew! Glad you could make it.” His grin lit up that corner of the room, and oh yeah, I was toast.

  “Hey, Marc.” I greeted the others and ordered a beer.

  “On me,” Marc cut in, and I thanked him.

  When I got the bottle, I leaned against the bar, sipping the brew while I watched everyone’s antics. Yeah, some folks couldn’t dance, but they had fun trying. Marc took turns with each staff member, and the way his hips moved got me hard, despite my intentions to the contrary. I drank more beer.

  “Your turn,” Marc said in my ear sometime later, and I barely repressed a shiver.

  He took me by the hand and led me to the dance floor, which wasn’t as packed as last Friday, but still plenty full. All my inhibitions left as the music flowed through me, like always, and I saw Marc’s eyes widen a bit before a grin took over his face, and we had a dance-off, of sorts.

  Too many songs later, and perhaps not enough, I staggered off the floor in search of a bottle of water. “You’ve got some moves, Llew. I would never have thought you could let loose like that.” And there went my euphoria.

  “Yeah, I get that a lot.” I gulped down the water, which Marc insisted be put on his tab, despite my protests, and decided it was time to go. “Thanks for the dance, and the night out. I’m gonna head home.”

  “Wait!” I heard Marc say, but I was so outta there, I couldn’t leave fast enough.

  I got out the door and opened the Uber app on my phone to find a ride. There was a line behind me outside the club, snaking around the building. Over their chatter, I heard footsteps.

  “Why do you do that?” I looked to my right see Marc staring at me, a frown visible on his face under the streetlight.

  “Do what?” I asked, not sure what he meant. But deep down, I probably knew.

  “You walk away before you give people a chance to get to know you better. You did
it on Saturday, and just now.”

  I fiddled with my phone so I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “It’s easier that way,” I surprised myself by admitting. “There’s not much that’s exciting about me. And I’ve learned it’s best to keep to myself and not get my hopes up for anything.”

  Marc stood in front of me. “Look at me, Llew.” Reluctantly, I did. “The people who treated you like that aren’t worth knowing. I like what I know of you, and I would be proud to call you a friend, to start with.”

  My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  He smiled. “You think I don’t know you check me out?”

  “Oh, God.” I covered my face with my free hand. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so obvious. It must have been uncomfortable for you, knowing I…Wait. Tonight wasn’t some kind of freebie, was it?” I was suddenly horrified that Marc had invited me tonight out of pity. “Tell me you weren’t throwing me a bone.”

  “No!” Marc said and grabbed my upper arms to stop me from running away. It was what I did, after all. “Slow down, Llew. I wanted you to have some fun. You don’t seem to do that much, and I wanted to do that for you.”

  I shrugged out of his grip, mortified. “So, you feel sorry for me. Great. That’s just great.” I backed away from him. “I think I’ll walk for a while.” I turned and left, because I didn’t know how much lower I could sink in my own opinion of myself. What a cluster fuck.

  * * * *

  For the next two and a half weeks, working on a variety of projects with tight deadlines, I was too busy to think about the poor impression I’d made on Marc and I barely had time to think, much less grieve, the loss of something I’d never had in the first place.

  Marc seemed to be avoiding me, which was fine because I had nothing to say that would redeem any chance in hell in that direction. I worked weekends and slept very little, determined to make an impression at the company with my skills, having nothing else to offer in the personality department.

  Unfortunately, I may have taken that effort a bit too far because I stumbled hard into someone while walking to the copier room late one afternoon.

  “Whoa, buddy,” John, my supervisor, said. “You alright, man?” he asked as he leaned me up against the wall.

  “I dunno.” I put a hand to my head. The world was swimming around me. “I feel a little woozy.”

  “When was the last time you ate, Llew?”

  I had to think hard, but it was difficult because everything was fuzzy and I couldn’t concentrate. “I’m not sure.”

  “You need something in your stomach, man. You barely leave your desk, and all I’ve seen you eat all day is a breakfast bar. That’s not enough. Your blood sugar probably tanked.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead with both hands and trying to will myself to have more energy.

  “Yeah, but only after I get you something to eat. Go to the break room and stay there. I’ll get you some food.”

  “You don’t have—”

  Another voice cut in. “He’ll eat anything, John.” It was Marc. Oh, that was just perfect.

  “Okay. Back in a jiff.”

  Marc took me by the elbow and led me the break room. I didn’t bother to resist, and I could feel eyes on us the whole way.

  He settled me into a chair, then sat in another and faced me. “This needs to stop, Llew.”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “We’re all doing our jobs, buddy. But you’re overworking yourself, and soon you’ll be no good to anyone.”

  He got up to get a soda from the machine, then handed it to me. It was orange-flavored. “Drink that to get a little sugar and listen to me carefully.”

  I had never heard such a steely tone in his voice. “Okay.”

  “You have nothing to prove. Do you hear me? Nothing. I don’t pity you. I admire you. So much. You’re determined to do well and make your mark, and I get that. But you have to understand that there needs to be a balance. You won’t get promoted if you can’t show the higher-ups that you have a life outside of this place. They don’t want a drone who can spit out reports twenty-four-seven. They want human beings who have flaws and still get the job done.”

  “But I…” I didn’t know how to say it.

  “But what, Llew?” He took one of my hands in his, and I almost cried. I hadn’t felt that kind of caring in a long time. “Drink your soda.”

  I took a sip, but I had to say something. “I don’t have a life outside of work. I can’t really afford hobbies, and I’m paying off my loans. I have a friend, Hans, who tolerates me. Work is all I have.”

  “That’s not true. A lot of people here want to get to know you better, but they’re intimidated because you’re so smart and no-nonsense about work, you know?” When I looked at him in incredulity, he continued, “No, it’s true. And at the club the other night, I saw people eyeing you like candy. You don’t realize the effect you have on people.”

  “That’s not…”

  “What? True? Yes, it is. Maybe people have been unkind to you in the past, but I didn’t see that the night we all hung out at the club, and I don’t see it here in the office, either. I know ‘cause I’m one of them.”

  My eyes widened, and I tugged my hand, but his grip tightened. “You can’t be serious. I’m nobody.”

  “Don’t you ever say that to me again,” he growled, and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. “You are somebody, to me, to a lot of people. And I hope that someday you’ll see that. In the meantime, how about you start taking care of yourself better so I can take you out on a date without you collapsing on me.”

  It was all too much, especially since he’d just said words I’d never thought I’d hear from him. Ever. “Slow down. What date? Since when are we going out…you want to date me?”

  “I do. I’ve had my eye on you since you started working here, but I didn’t want to push anything, and I knew you were interested, but I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And then it all spiraled down from there.”

  Before either of us could say more, John returned with food from the café in the building. “You eat all of this, and don’t go back to your desk for at least an hour, hear me?”

  I nodded and thanked him.

  “Okay.” John patted me on the shoulder and left the break room, never once commenting on the fact that Marc was still holding my hand, though he might have smirked on his way out.

  I finished the rest of my drink, and Marc finally let go of my hand so I could eat. I ate everything in minutes flat, so apparently, I was starving.

  “You look better now,” Marc said, smiling as he ran a finger down the left side of my face. “You’re no longer white as a sheet, and you were pretty pale already.”

  “Haha.” I fiddled with the plastic fork. “Are you sure you want to be seen in public with me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? There’s nothing wrong with you, Llew. You’re just you, and that’s fine with me.”

  To hear him say that made me want to burst into tears. It didn’t seem real that I had finally met someone who didn’t want me to change anything else about myself except my extreme work habits.

  I took a breath and decided to take a chance, for a change. “Okay. If you’re game, then so am I.”

  “Hallelujah! I thought I’d have to get down on my knees and beg you to say ‘yes.’ Of course, John will never let me live this down.”

  “John? Why?”

  Marc looked sheepish. “He’s been teasing me since day one about you.”

  “Is that why he smirked just now?”

  “See? That’s another reason why I like you. You notice things, unless they relate to yourself. We’ll work on that.”

  “We will?”

  “Yup. You’ll see.” He stood and pulled me to my feet, dragging me into his arms.

  “What are you doing? We’re at work. Anybody could see!” My protest, however, was token, at best. I had what I’d wanted for over two months pressed up
against me. I needed to stop complaining.

  “What does it feel like I’m doing?” He leaned down to kiss me softly on the lips, then kissed my forehead and pressed my head to his shoulder. I barely touched his chin.

  “Where are we going on our first date?” I asked, soaking up his warmth and delicious scent.

  “I think we need to go back to the club and show those wannabe dancers how it’s done.”

  I burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. I knew I liked you when I interviewed you. The feeling grew once I saw how hard you worked. But when you danced? Sold.”

  “If I had known it was that easy, I would have shimmied my ass in your face a while ago.”

  “That’s still on the table.”

  “Oh. Well, I suppose if we make it to date number two, I’ll give you a private show.”

  “We’ll make it, don’t worry.”

  THE END

  ABOUT J.D. WALKER

  J.D. Walker likes to keep her stories short and sweet, with the occasional novel or novella. A multi-published author, she is also a musician, artist, language enthusiast (German and Spanish), and lover of all things knit and crochet.

  For more information, visit lifebyjo.com/jdwalker.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!