“Think of yourself as collateral damage.” I smile and heat floods my face. I managed to say something without sounding like a total dork, so of course I’m going to turn bright red.
Despite the fact that Alex and I have worked closely together for months, I still can’t keep my shit together around him. And it’s worse now, after what happened in the storage closet right behind him.
Don’t think about it, Jane. Don’t remember or you’ll make it worse.
It’s not apparent at first glance, but Alex is kind of a big deal. He started developing gaming apps as a teenager and made his first million just this past year.
About six months ago, he hired Blue Wave to help him market his newest releases. I was on his team initially, but then, of course, I screwed it up and was transferred off his team two months ago. Since then, I only see him when he stops by the office for meetings or to drop things off or whatever business he has now.
It’s for the best, really. If I don’t see him every day, then I can’t waste my time imagining running my hands through his shaggy hair, which is eternally a week away from needing a haircut. I also can’t think about what it would be like to bite that spot at the side of his jaw, just under his ear, or what his perfectly symmetrical lips would feel like against mine.
Nope. Can’t spend time on any of that, because it’s like wishing on a star, or buying a lotto ticket, or forwarding a chain email to obtain true happiness. Nice in theory, but impossible in reality.
“I get it, I’m damaged goods,” he says with a grin.
I chuckle and try to rein in my galloping heart rate. “Yeah, you’re a hot mess.” I wave a hand. “I-I’m kidding. I’m just giving you a hard-on.” The world freezes to a halt.
Our eyes lock.
His brows lift.
I replay the words in my head. Nope. “Hard time!” And now I’m yelling at him. “Hard time. Not hard-on.” The heat in my face is an inferno. A volcano. My head might erupt.
Alex is laughing his ass off while I die inside slowly. I try to force out a laugh. I can laugh at myself, it’s why I’m still somewhat functional, but really, I would rather cry.
Why is it so hard for me to talk to him without making a fool of myself?
“Oh, Jane.” He wipes his eyes. “I miss talking to you.”
My heart leaps in my chest before making a crash landing. He’s the one who asked for me to be removed from his team.
I liked Alex in a more than professional way, and I’m sure that’s why I was taken off of his team. He would never say so, of course. He’s too nice to tell me to my face how much I embarrassed myself.
My face burns even hotter.
It doesn’t matter. I have a boyfriend now. Mark. Even though we’ve never gone on an actual date, we’re sort of together—I mean, we’ve been sleeping together for the past two months, so we’re something. Definitely something. Even though I’m not sure I like Mark.
Ugh.
I kick thoughts of Mark away.
Alex smiles at me when the laughter dies down. “I won’t keep you. You have a pitch or something today, right? For the senior marketing job?”
“Oh, yes. And unfortunately, I’m late.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.”
“Thanks, Alex. You’re a good friend.”
And that’s all he’ll ever be. Guys like him don’t go for women like me. Especially after I smeared what may or may not be excrement all over him.
His smile slips a little, or I imagine it does, because it’s just a second and then it’s as bright as ever. “Good luck.” He has dimples.
Ugh, so cute.
Washing up in the bathroom, I glance in the mirror and groan. I look like I went through a typhoon to get here. I can’t believe Alex saw me like this. I attempt to straighten my crazy hair and clean the mascara off my cheek.
And then I take one final, deep breath before picking up my briefcase and heading out the door.
Chapter Two
The limbic system is an extraordinary part of the human brain, especially when it comes to survival. It regulates heart rate, body temperature, and a myriad of other basic functions. But it also constantly scans the environment for possible threats. It’s important if you’re, say, walking through a jungle and you come across a hungry tiger crouching in the bushes waiting for its next meal. It gives you adrenaline, strength, and speed, and it helps you fight the threat or flee the danger.
But if I’m going to talk in front of a group of people, or interact with people at all, my limbic system becomes an inconvenient burden.
Not only does my brain scan the environment for crouching tigers, it scans the social environment for cues of danger, real or imagined. And past experience has informed my brain time and time again that danger is everywhere, always, and it’s impossible to tell my limbic system otherwise.
This is why, as I pass through the employee area and make my way to the other side of the building, my heart races, my hands shake, and my throat closes up. The stark white hallway to the conference room is empty, but apparently my brain thinks it’s a life-or-death situation.
I stand there, staring at the shut door and trying to regain control of my body. They’re in there.
One more calming breath, which does nothing to slow my racing heart, and then I’m in.
“Hello. Sorry I’m late.” My voice only shakes a little.
“That’s fine, Jane. Please, have a seat.” Stacey offers me a smile that I think is supposed to be comforting, but my heart is still pounding and a trickle of sweat slips down my side.
I really hope I don’t get pit stains in the middle of all this.
Mother’s voice whispers in my head. Be strong.
