Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” she says. “For the flowers, I mean.” She stares at the massive size of the bouquet. I think I bought like two hundred or more of those tulips. Anything to make it up to her.
“You told me they were your favorite, so I figured I needed to go big or go home.”
“I can see,” she murmurs.
“I would’ve bought more, but the store was out,” I say, rubbing the back of my head.
She sniggers softly and smells them, momentarily lost in thought.
I figure I should tell her the rest too. Now that I’m finally being honest and shit’s already ruined, I might as well take my chances and just go for it. Trust has to start somewhere. I just hope that, after all I’ve done, it’s not too late.
“I, uh … I knew it was you,” I say. “When you applied. I knew you were the girl I bought those panties from.”
Her eyes flash to mine, and she puts the bouquet down to listen to me.
“I didn’t know it before you sold them to me. When you applied, they were already in my possession. If I’d known you were going to apply for a job at Morrows, I would’ve cancelled the order. But you had already sent it out by the time I found out.”
“How did you know it was me?” she asks.
I make a face, cringing at the thought of having to admit my pervy behavior. “I kinda stalked your Facebook profile.”
Her lips part and her brows draw together. “Wait. How did you find my profile? My name was Pantylicious, but I didn’t use that anywhere else.”
“No … but you did use an old email on some panty-selling website, and I used it to track you down.”
She turns her head and blows out a breath.
“I know it was wrong, and I apologize for that too.”
“So you’re not just a panty sniffer but a stalker too,” she says, clutching the doorframe. “Great.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” I shrug. “I didn’t mean to, but it just happens. Shit just flies my way.”
“No, you create it.”
“Semantics,” I muse, raising my brows, which makes her roll her eyes. “But you have to know that I didn’t do it to be weird. I was just … interested.”
“In what?”
“You.”
My honesty has her taken aback, and she licks her lips as the silence returns for a second.
“I liked you, and I couldn’t stop. I wanted to know more even when I knew it was wrong,” I say. “And then I found out you’d applied for a job at Morrows.”
“Is that why you denied me the job?” she asks, cocking her head.
“At first, yes,” I reply, mulling it over. “I was tempted but told myself to say no because… well, I bought your panties, and it would look really, really bad if anyone found out.”
“You know I was so mad at you for declining me and then accepting me later,” she says, folding her arms.
I snort and raise my hand. “Same.”
“What changed?” she asks.
“A certain individual changed my mind … and I’m thankful he did.”
“Someone at work?”
I nod.
“I’m not sure whether I should go and thank him or tell him he’s just as dumb as you are.”
I laugh, and she can’t seem to hold in her laughter either even though she tries to hide it behind a stern frown.
I smirk. “I had that coming.”
* * *
Lesley
“Yes …” I say, not sure how to act around him. Everything feels so awkward. “But thanks for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, I forgot.” He sticks his hand in his jacket and rummages around until he’s found what he was looking for. A tiny box wrapped with a ribbon. “I didn’t wanna overdo it, so I bought a small one.” The smile on his face is infectious as he gives me the box.
When I open it, my jaw practically drops. There are two vanilla macaroons inside.
“Overdoing it,” I say, snorting. “Please.”
He shrugs and says, “It’s a habit. When I like something, I tend to get everything and anything related to it.”
“Like panties …?” I muse, raising a brow.
He cocks his head, his lips pursing. “Among others. It’s just who I am. I hoard stuff and get really obsessive about it.”
“Hmm …” Obsessive is quite an understatement, but I’ll take it.
“Like I’m obsessed with you,” he adds, making my heart pound in my chest.
Fuck. Why does he always have to grab my heart and rip it out like that?
“So let me get this straight … you were obsessed with me, so you bought my panties, and when I came to apply for a job, you also hired me as your intern because you couldn’t let it go?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He’s just standing there with utter confidence. As if he knows it’s all kinds of wrong but still doesn’t give two shits.
“I like your attitude,” I say with a snarky voice. “But I still don’t get why you wouldn’t just return them before I found out.”