Julian's Pursuit (13 page)

I didn’t want to hear them chatting and laughing just outside my door.

“You joining us for drinks tonight?” Julian asked. “It’s Kip’s birthday.”

“You betcha!” Riley held up the white box. “Who do you think this cake is for?”

“You baked it yourself?” Julian sounded mildly impressed.

“Um-hmm,” Riley said in a saccharine voice. “Sure did. It’s Big Kip’s favorite—red velvet.” After a pause, she said, “What about you, big boy? What’s your favorite cake?”

“Black forest,” Julian replied.

“Ohhh,” Riley cooed. “I make a really good black forest cake. It turns out so moist and creamy and I garnish it with sour cherries on top.”

Just kill me now. If I hear any more talk of moist cakes and sour cherries, I’ll have to slit my wrists.

Flinging open my drawer, I grabbed my things and slammed it shut with deliberate force. As I left my office, Riley was still going on and on about her baking skills and her love of cupcakes and the show
Cupcake Wars
.

“So what’s your deal with cupcakes anyway?” I heard him ask Riley. There was a faint thread of amusement in his voice, which pricked my temper.

Riley twirled a strand of hair around her finger, staring dreamily at Julian. “Hmm. I guess I’m just a lonely cupcake searching for her stud muffin.”

I rolled my eyes. “Excuse me,” I said graciously. Pointedly ignoring Julian, I strode purposefully toward the elevator.

Clearly, Julian was over me and had moved on to Riley Jones.

I guess I was simply interchangeable. He couldn’t have me and now he wanted Riley.

What a dick
, I thought, brimming over with rage.
To think I actually liked him
.

When I got to the elevator, Kip and a couple of guys from his department moved over to the left to make room for me. “Sadie!” Kip said brightly. “Join us!”

Kip Neal was a Production Artist, and he always had a kind word and a ready smile for everyone, so it was no surprise nearly half the office was heading over to the Waterfront Bar & Grill to celebrate his birthday.

I was about to politely decline when someone shouted, “Wait! Hold the elevator!”

Kip fed his arm through the space between the doors at the last second, causing them to bounce back open.

Seconds later, Riley and Julian stepped inside.

Oh, what fresh hell.

“Thanks!” Riley and Julian said in unison.

Mm. Already they’re talking in sync
, I thought bitterly.
Next they’ll be finishing each other’s sentences.

“So…” Kip continued as the doors slid shut. “Are you gonna join us, Sadie?”

“Yeah!” Riley piped in. “Why don’t you come? It’ll be so much fun!”

Feeling Julian’s eyes on me, I forced a smile and practically split my face into two, pretending that he didn’t faze me. “Nah, I’ll pass. You guys enjoy your night.”

Riley pouted profusely. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.” I gave a curt nod.

I’d rather dispose of biohazardous waste.

Let’s be real, I wasn’t going to join them just so I could sit there like a bump on a log and watch her and Julian fawn over each other.

As they were doing now. Fawning.

I inhaled, finding it hard to breathe. Although the elevator was large by, well, elevator standards, I felt suffocated.

Julian was way over on the other side, but his presence seemed to eat up the distance between us. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he and Riley chatted with each other with the ease of a long friendship.

Joy
.
Excuse me while I go stab myself.

The awkwardness level had reached Defcon Level One and I couldn’t get out of that elevator soon enough. The second it reached the lobby and pinged open, I bounced out and threw a quick glance over my shoulder. “Have a
fabbity-fab
time, guys!” I said sweetly before catching Julian’s eye.

He was staring at me, a small frown crossing his face.

Shittlesticks!
I almost kicked myself as I picked up my pace.
Did I just say fabbity-fab?

There was so much glee in it that it was sickening. I’d always thought those words should die a horrible death, and now I’d just uttered them.

Closing my eyes briefly, I cringed inwardly and uttered a low curse.

That evening, after a warm bath where I sat watching the bath water bubble until all the bubbles had bubbled, I lay awake in bed for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling.

I thought about Julian. I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands over his broad shoulders, to feel the hard muscles in his back as he slammed home inside me.

I wondered what it would feel like to rake my nails over his scalp as he buried that gorgeous head between my thighs and ate me out with a hungry, heated demand.

Feeling hot and bothered, I exhaled hard and turned on my side. The clock on my nightstand glowed 12:45 a.m.

Julian had probably left the bar by now.

Then it occurred to me that at this precise moment, he could be in bed with Riley Jones.

They could be having wild, hot, passionate sex.

They could be fucking like rabbits.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying hard to ignore the dull ache beneath my ribs that might have been envy. Perhaps even regret. Foolishly, I had fallen into the trap of thinking that Julian only wanted me.

Chapter Thirteen

New Year’s Eve was another anticlimactic day, and January flew by in a frantic whirlwind. As we trucked on into February, Julian remained distant, though more than once, I caught him looking at me as if I were a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

I missed him. I missed our friendship. I missed his contagious smile, his infectious laugh. I missed all the harmless flirting. I even missed him trying, but then failing, to be subtle when checking me out.

Now he basically ignored me unless there were projects and clients that forced us to work together.

But while he gave me the cold shoulder, he was his usual warm and friendly self to everyone else. Though I tried to remain unaffected, I often found myself observing his interactions with the women in the office, paying extra close attention to the chemistry between him and Riley.

One time, I caught his gaze shifting from me to Riley and then lingering there.

Riley stared back at him, and I wondered what had passed between them.

Lust or love or perhaps just friendship—I wasn’t sure.

That uncertainty alone was enough to drive me crazy.

As I sat working at my desk, my ears perked up when I happened to overhear some guys in the break room calling Riley an M&M.

Of course it had nothing to do with the candy itself.

In this office, every nickname was laced with sexual innuendo.

It was part and parcel of working in advertising.

The men doled out the nicknames, and so did the women.

And if you hooked up with someone in the office with a big mouth and loose lips, you’d end up with a nickname or two.

If loose lips sink ships, then the lips in this office alone would sink an entire fleet.

Dianne Strauss, a copywriter, was once christened with the nickname Pringles. Because, well…
“Once you pop, you can’t stop.”

Natalie Griffin was Geico. “So easy a caveman can do it.”

Clive Mann was Gatorade.
“Is it in you?”

Bobby Jay was Lucky Strike.
“So round, so firm, so fully packed.”

Kevin Lucero was a Chevy. Because, well… “
Chevy Runs Deep.”

Ben Bomer was Carl’s Jr.
“If it doesn’t get all over the place, it does not belong in your face.”

Um, excuse me while I go throw up my breakfast.

Even I had my very own nickname for the infamous Tim Pulaski—AT&T.
“Reach out and touch someone.”

So when I heard a newly christened nickname, it inevitably kicked into motion my gears of perversion.

In Riley’s case, it was as clear as day.

M&Ms… “
Melts in your mouth, not in your hands.”

M&M Riley. That name slid through my heart like a dull blade.

As the day progressed and “M&M Riley” circulated around the office, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if Riley enjoyed giving head, and more specifically, if she had gone down on Julian.

Or if Julian had gone down on Riley.

Either she sucked him off and he melted in her mouth, or he ate her out and she melted in his mouth.

Or maybe they did a sixty-nine, orally going down on each other at the same time and thus melting in each other’s mouths.

That image alone brought a fresh wave of nausea.

I shook my head as if I could somehow shake off that image.

Then I turned my eagle-eyed glare on Julian.

He was at his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he stared at the computer screen.

To be fair, he’d seemed preoccupied with work all the time, and I hadn’t actually seen him and Riley together much, or at all for that matter. Not since Kip’s birthday.

Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was someone else.

A whole lot of maybes raced through my mind.

I knew Riley had a crush on Julian. But she also had a crush on Kip and Nate and Clive and Derek. So maybe it was one of them.

My eyes continued to linger on Julian. He hadn’t shaved this morning and dark stubble accentuated his jawline. Every now and then, he raked a hand through his hair as he stared at his computer screen with focused attention.

God. Why did he have to look so goddamn sexy when he was lost in his work?

Suddenly he stood, raising his arms behind his head as he stretched, his magnificent form straining as his muscles tensed and flexed.

Hypnotized, I watched as his shirt hiked up his torso, revealing for a breath-catching moment the sharp definition of muscle in his hips, his hard stomach and hollowed abdomen, and the fine line of hair that trailed from his navel all the way down and lower.

And lower…

My heated stare followed that soft trail of hair, wandering down the treasure trail.

The happy trail, so to speak… that led all the way down to the magical forest.

My breath hitched, and I felt the flesh between my thighs heating further and dampening.

I had to rub my legs together under my desk to disperse the overflow of juices.

For a cold moment, Julian caught and held my gaze across the room.

He didn’t smile, only stared.

I feared I would drown in that gaze, but I couldn’t look away.

Swallowing hard, I pressed my legs together, feeling that familiar tug between my thighs, the sweet nudge in my clit every time he looked at me.

Smile
, I told myself.
Act normal.

My phone chose that moment to buzz. I ignored it at first, but it buzzed again.

“Hello?” I answered. A pause. “Yes, this is Sadie Frost.”

The phone almost slipped from my fingers when I heard the news. “I’ll be right there,” I said urgently.

By the time I got to Evan’s school, his legs were completely swollen.

I knew at once what this could mean: protein-losing enteropathy, also know as PLE.

Evan had endured several major open-heart surgeries and dozens of hospital stays—all before the age of six. These surgeries, known as staged reconstruction or the Fontan procedure, rerouted the circulation of blood through his heart. And as a result, his heart now functioned as a one-sided, instead of a two-sided pump.

Before Evan had gone through these open-heart surgeries, his cardiologist, Dr. Bonner, had informed me that PLE was a known and potentially devastating complication of the surgical procedures for congenital heart disease. Typically, PLE symptoms manifested a few months to sixteen years following the procedure, and in thirty percent of patients, PLE symptoms occurred five to six years post surgery.

The fact that this month was Evan’s six-year mark wasn’t lost on me. The symptoms were severe swelling, fever, shortness of breath, abdominal pain, and loss of calcium from the bones—most of which Evan was displaying at the moment.

Deep breaths
, I told myself as I kept my foot heavy on the accelerator, speeding like a demon to St. Margaret’s Children’s Hospital.

Though I tried my best to remain calm for Evan, my throat was tight with fear.

PLE could be life threatening and in some cases fatal.

In less than an hour, I got Evan to the hospital and rushed him into the ER. As I held my little boy in my arms, I tried not to panic when I noticed his belly was swelling and his fever was spiking.

After several tests, Dr. Bonner confirmed that Evan did in fact have PLE.

It took a few heartbeats for what he was saying to actually sink in, and when they did, the implications of his words penetrated slowly, like a chilly draft under the door.

I breathed out slowly. “What happens now?” I asked the doctor after we’d stepped out of Evan’s room.

“I’ve put him on some budesonide. It’s an oral steroid that should help stabilize him,” Dr. Bonner explained. “If his body doesn’t respond to budesonide, we’ll try heparin therapy.”