Chapter 67 Professionalism & Dignity: Two things I Can't Maintain
Eden's POV:
I'm practically giddy with excitement when I get to work this morning. I've barely slept, unable to clear my head of thoughts of Noah or more precisely kissing Noah. If I'd realised he was that good a kisser, I'd have kissed him sooner. Possibly.
Alright, I probably wouldn't have. Especially because he can be a right jerk sometimes but I'd definitely have imagined it sooner.
Thoughts of kissing Noah had even managed to keep me from ringing my grandma to demand answers about the company's finances. If distracting me had been Noah's goal when he kissed me, he did one hell of a fine job.
The problem is that now I have to act like it didn't happen. I have no idea what Noah is thinking... I don't know if he wants to date or if it was a mistake. Just the heat of the moment or something. But really none of that matters.
What actually matters is that this building is our workplace and I'm going to do my best to maintain a perfect level of professionalism. I will not let on that anything untoward has happened and I certainly won't give my colleagues a reason to gossip about me. That isn't going to happen.
So as giddy as I might feel, I have to pull it together before the others arrive.
"Morning."
I practically jump out of my skin, turning on the spot to see Noah coming towards me. So much for professionalism and dignity.
"Good morning," I reply.
He's smiling at me in a way he really shouldn't be smiling at me. At least not here.
"Sleep well?" he asks politely, handing me a coffee as he falls into step beside me.
"Er... yeah... Like a baby," I lie.
"I didn't."
"You didn't?"
"I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Noah Grisham is going to be the death of me. I'm pointedly looking around us to make sure that no one else is around, that no one else heard what he just said but he's standing there looking down at me, like he doesn't give two hoots who hears him. He's obviously off his rocker.
"Shh!" I say, pushing him through the department and into his office. I shut the door behind us.
I turn towards him, opening my mouth to rebuke him, to tell him he should be more careful but he's far closer than I expect him to be. And I very nearly spill my coffee all over him. I pull away and end up pressed up against the door. He has the most ridiculous grin on his face as if this is exactly how he wanted to start his morning. Personally, I'd been hoping for a morning where I could drink my coffee instead of wearing it, but apparently beggars can't be choosers and it was either his shirt or mine.
He glances down, realising that I've spilt my very HOT drink down my blouse and his eyes widen. I'm not completely sure if it's because he's worried I might have burnt myself or because now my blouse is most definitely see through. Either way, I'd love to just sink into the woodwork.
"Sh*t, Eden! Are you okay?"
I hiss out my response because honestly, I don't think anyone likes being scolded by piping hot coffee.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."
"You should take that off," he says seriously. "You need to pour cold water on the burn."
"And how do you suggest I do that here?" I ask sarcastically.
He's nodding his head, trying to think up an answer to my current predicament.
"It's too early to buy a new top," he's muttering more to himself than to me. "Ah! I have a spare shirt in my desk draw."
"I am not wearing your clothes," I say, gesticulating with my hands just how serious I am. I can only imagine what everyone would say if I wore Noah's shirt. Talk about a lack of professional boundaries.
"I don't think you have much choice."
"I'll just go wipe this down," I say, although I know full well it's going to stain and I'm going to have to spend the whole day reeking of coffee.
He crosses the room and pulls out the shirt I'm so adamant that I won't wear. Handing it me, he says, "put it on quickly and I'll drive you home to change before anyone sees."
I can hardly argue with his logic. If we hurry we can possibly even make it back before anyone else arrives. That's one of the perks of Noah starting his day so early. Grumbling, I accept the shirt and he turns around to give me privacy while I change. I've got to give it to Noah, he does occasionally behave like a gentleman.
Once I have his shirt on, I tell him he can turn back around as I tuck it into my skirt in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that I'm clearly wearing a man's shirt.
"That colour looks good on you," he says, his eyes clouding over with what I presume is lust. Something we really don't have time for if we're going to get me out of here before our team arrive.
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