can smell my skin heat up and start smoking. The fact that he doesn’t know all my notifications are rejections means he hasn’t tried to pry into my phone when I’m not looking, which I appreciate. No matter how much this bugs him, he won’t invade my privacy.
“Maybe jewelry,” he says suddenly.
I glance up. I haven’t applied to any jewelry stores. But then, he doesn’t know that’s what’s on my mind. He doesn’t know my organs are being pressed in a vise. “What about jewelry?”
“For Stacy.”
This topic is annoying. I am thoroughly, decidedly annoyed and there are thorns growing out of my flesh. Who cares what she gets? Does he ever put this amount of thought into presents he gets for me? I’ll tell you the answer to that one: no. “I still don’t see anything wrong with getting her a gift card.”
“Jewelry would be nicer.”
“Expensive jewelry would be, but isn’t there a max on how much you’re supposed to spend? Most offices that do Secret Santa keep it under twenty bucks or something like that.”
“No, there’s no limit,” he says slowly. His eyes glitter, one corner of his mouth hooking back. I hold my breath because I can just tell he’s about to toss a grenade. “Besides, I want her to know I care.”
“She won’t know it came from you,” I remind him. “It’s Secret Santa.”
“I think she’ll know.”
“How? How will she know, Nicholas?” God, it’s stupid for grown people to give each other holiday presents. When it comes to colleagues, anyway. It’s undignified. People who work together shouldn’t be forced to socialize unnecessarily. Whatever happened to professionalism in the workplace?
It’s Nicholas’s turn to shrug, but there’s something pleased about his demeanor. “We know each other very well. We’re close. I think she’ll be able to sense it like that.” He snaps his fingers.
“Giving jewelry to a woman you work with is inappropriate,” I say frostily. “So is lotion. Get her a pair of socks, you pervert.”
He turns his face away from me, covering his mouth with his hand. “Maybe a subscription service? A monthly delivery of flowers.”
My blood froths. The image of him presenting her with flowers makes me homicidal. “Buy her a travel magazine. She should get out of the state more. Out of the country, even.”
“Mmm, I think I’m leaning toward jewelry. A pair of earrings. What do women like, Naomi? You can be helpful here. Do women like diamonds?”
“Diamonds?” I screech. “For your coworker? What kind of message are you trying to send?”
“I don’t see anything wrong with diamonds,” he replies angelically, giving me a mock-puzzled expression. “Stacy’s a valuable member of our team. I think Stacy deserves—”
“I swear to god, Nicholas, if I hear that woman’s name come out of your mouth one more time, I’m gluing your lips together. I’ll drag you outside and throw you back into that stupid pond, butt-naked this time. I’ll go down to your office and chain myself to your wrist so you never get any private interaction with her. If you try to give her diamonds, I’m going to steal them back and bake them into your food. I don’t give a shit how valuable—”
I pause.
Nicholas is laughing.
“Is this funny to you?” I’m shrill as a siren.
“Little bit,” he admits, trying to hide a grin. “And it’s buck-naked. That’s the phrase, just so you know.”
“If you give that woman flowers,” I growl, “I’m going to—”
“Going to what?” He stands and comes toward me so fast I don’t have time to react.
His palms sink into the fabric of the couch on either side of my head, face hovering over mine. I try to shrink back but there’s nowhere to go. My blood pumps so forcefully, it makes my heart hurt.
Nicholas slants me a wild look, eyes blazing. “What are you going to do, Naomi?”
There’s a frisson of anticipation and suspense in his tone; something that still hopes, in spite of our constant attacks. I reach for a sharp weapon but don’t find any. Facing him on our battlefield, I drop all my armor.
“Cry,” I whisper.
The strings of our reserve snap and he falls onto me, astride my lap, knees digging into the couch to support his weight. His fingers tangle in my hair and his lips find mine, soft and warm and inviting.
He isn’t gentle. Nicholas’s tongue darts along the seam of my lips in demand, and I open for him because my head is spinning and focus is a myth and he’s kissing me like this. Has