had to continue. Matthew pulled back and rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Oldest pick-up lines in the book.”
She shook her head, her dark hair floating around her soft shoulders. “It’s not like that. He and I texted about that. He’s a Brit Lit Professor so it’s legit, and—”
He made a T with his hands. “Time out. Is that the guy you asked me about last week? The one that works at J&C Fitness?”
Lexie nodded slowly, regret creeping into her eyes.
“And the person he thinks he’s communicating with is your boss?”
She glared at her glass. “I’ve said way too much. I swear I won’t breathe a word about you breaking into a cold sweat at the thought of singing anywhere other than your own shower if you promise to never, ever repeat what I’ve just told you.”
“No worries.” Amazing what a little self-restraint on his part, combined with a cocktail on hers, had on her. Suddenly she was confiding in him about mixed feelings and suspicions regarding his alter ego.
And imagining him in his shower…
He swallowed. “So, what’re you going to do?”
She gazed up at him, her eyes wide. “Nothing.”
They were at the point in the evening when he’d typically move in for the kiss, and ask her back to his place or agree to go to hers. But tonight, he was going to follow Lexie’s lead—and do absolutely nothing.
Chapter Fourteen
Matthew glanced out the second floor window of his soon-to-be office in Whittaker Hall on Manhattan University’s Midtown campus, and his hand froze in midair, his tome of The Riverside Shakespeare in his arms all but forgotten.
He moved to the window for a closer look. A woman sat on one of the stone benches facing the building, a veil of shiny brown hair hiding her face as she bent over an open book on her lap. The flowing blue top, dark blue leggings hugging lower curves, and a pair of soft flat shoes gave her a fresh, delicate look. She glanced up, her hair falling back to reveal clear eyes and an awesomely kissable mouth. His jeans went tight at the crotch. Lexie. Should’ve known. No other woman captivated him to the point he’d catalogue the details of her outfit.
Did she attend classes here? Or had she fibbed when she told him she planned to do nothing about her mystery man? He cursed.
“What’s the problem, bro?”
He tore his gaze from the window to find his colleague standing in the doorway.
“You look like I caught you plagiarizing.” Chris cocked his head. “Everything okay?”
Matthew glanced out the window. “You know that situation I told you about over coffee? Well, she’s sitting out front.”
Chris joined him at the window and nodded. “Nice. I’ve seen her at the gym.”
“Do you think she knows I’m here?”
Chris lifted a brow. “Only one way to find out.”
Reluctant to consider that risky proposition, Matthew walked over to the shelves to set the Shakespeare text next to The Songs and Sonnets of John Donne. Would she forgive him if she learned the truth? He took a deep, cleansing breath and faced his friend.
“Want to go out for lunch?”
Matthew glanced at his colleague’s tweed blazer and starched khakis. He brushed at the dust clinging to the front of his old NYU T-shirt and rubbed his hands on his faded jeans. “To-go from Uptown Deli all right?”
“Works for me.” Chris surveyed the office. “Looks good in here.”
“Did I make it stuffy enough, with a hint of British sophistication?” Matthew joked, grabbing the keys off his desk in the corner.
“The cherry furniture and coat of pale blue paint on the walls says a lot about you, but for a full analysis, I’d have to charge you,” his colleague countered, his expression deadpan.
Matthew snorted and lifted the large cardboard box filled with junk from his inherited desk. Following Chris into the hallway, he paused to lock the door behind them.
“Kidding aside,” Chris said, clapping him on the back, “that promotion couldn’t have happened to a nicer, more deserving guy.”
“Thanks.” Matthew started down the dim hallway with his friend, and as always, the whiff of must mixed with old plaster reminded him of Etta and her books, the ones she’d read to him and later had given him, many of which were now housed on the shelves in his new office. He’d have to take a photo to show her when he visited her tomorrow. “I’d man hug you if I didn’t have this box in the way.” No need to go down memory lane when