Chapter Eight
1275 Words
Sayre walked into her office- her new space in Luke's company. It was unnecessary but he'd insisted- on the basis of making her feel welcome. She paused at the desk blowing her hair out of her face when she noticed the view. It was almost as good as hers back at her actual office.
She let out a breath. Winter was fast approaching and the thought made her feel heavenly. Except the obvious part where she's going to spend it in bed alone. She huffed. Her family decided to have Christmas together with Beck's family this year because Luke was around in town for Christmas for the first time since he was nineteen.
A part of her did not want to go. She didn't want anything to do with family gatherings and besides her and her mother loved each other better from a great distance, she related better to people through texts- if she replied at all. But she'd rather be alone than attend.
She heard a knock behind her and turned.
"Hi"
"Hey"
Luke walked into the office, looking breathtaking as usual. He was dressed in his normal suit attire, except his suit was missing and the sleeve of his shirts were folded up to his elbows. His face had a little scruff to it, had he forgotten to shave?
Sayre smiled.
"How was your night?"
She asked, letting out a nervous chuckle
"It was great. How was yours?"
"Perfect."
She ran a hasty hand through her hair.
"I really love the view"
She turned back.
"Yeah"
He came to stand beside her and her perfume wafted up his nose. She smelled like fresh air, like a walk through the garden at night, like sunflowers.
Sayre's breath hitched, she was suddenly aware of him and it was starting to drive her insane
"I love your hair."
He said turning to meet her eyes.
"Thank you"
She turned without looking up to reach for her bag. Her hair was brown today, long and wavy. His gaze followed her every move, he was obsessed- as obsessed as he was since ten.
She finally turned around to hand something to him. The smell knocked him up again.
“You always smell like something I can’t name."
His voice was husky and rough. He always seemed to not know how to behave around her
She blushed, avoiding his gaze.
"Thank you"
She said running a hand through her hair- a common habit she did when she was nervous. She made the mistake of looking up at him. His greens were warm and filled with heat it made her hot too. She took a careful step back with a gentle shake of her head. She couldn't string together a sentence because he was in her head, he was everywhere. It was maddening
"Um" she cleared her throat.
"Maggie thought it'd be a good idea to form a collaboration for the SLOTHS campaign"
She handed him a folded piece of paper.
"It could have been an email"
But she wanted an excuse to see him.
"But I wanted to see my new office"
He tucked the paper into his trouser pocket.
"I'll take a look at it later. Are you staying for lunch?"
"No"
She reached for her bag.
Luke withdrew, stepping back to give her space.
"Bye"
"You let him walk away??!!!"
Ophelia gasped, hand to her mouth in surprise.
"What was i supposed to do? Undress and make him sniff my pants?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes.
"Since we're on the topic, what's up with both of you? I thought you were into Beck? And for f***s sake Sayre you can't be with two brothers."
"Half."
She rolled her eyes, stuffing a whole cookie in her mouth.
"It doesn't matter"
"I don't wanna be with either of them"
"I can't hear you"
Sayre swallowed.
"I said I don't want to be with either of them."
Ophelia frowned.
"Sayre, your tongue was fifty inches deep down Luke's throat that night. What are you talking about?"
"I didn't know it was him."
"Since when did you become blind?"
Sayre guffawed, tendering both her arms out in surrender.
"You f*****g told me to go for him in the first place and I did. That took me a lot of gut and now you're blaming me for acting on your orders?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes.
"Way to go. First of all, I also was not aware Luke was in town, second of all, are you saying if I told you to fall off a cliff and die, you'd actually do it?"
"You're infuriating"
She pulled her hair up in a quick ponytail as she prepared to dig into her food. She was out with Ophelia during lunch for African fried rice and turkey.
"Maybe you should make up your mind before you start something you can't finish."
"Ophelia, I'm not into either of them. I sure don't feel anything for Beck and I am not trying to start anything."
Ophelia paused, hitting her knife on the table gently.
"hmm. I'm trying to get my maths right. You suddenly don't feel anything for a man who got you depressed for five years"
"Yes"
Sayre nodded.
"The same reason you couldn't bring yourself to have s*x with any other person for five good years?"
Sayre itched her eyebrows with her small finger.
"I didn't want to have s*x with anyone because I didn't want to."
She murmured
"I believe you."
Ophelia said, lifting a spoonful of food to her mouth. She looked around taking in the ambience of the restaurant as she chewed
"Are you going to be attending the get together?"
Sayre shook her head.
"I don't know. I really don't want to go"
"Yeah, same"
She sighed looking up to catch Beck walk in just in time.
"Beck is here"
She announced in a low tone.
Sayre whipped up her head to see him walk towards and averted her gaze. Ever since the stunt he pulled with her in the lobby, she'd always made an effort not to be in the same space he was. It was baffling because eighteen year old her would have found it romantic but now even the sight of him disgusted her.
What the hell was in the air back then? It felt like watching twilight ten years later and realizing just how silly and cringe that movie was. She began to pack her purse
"So you're running again"
She shot Ophelia a look. Sometimes, Ophelia did and said things that makes you want to break a bottle on her head. Right now was one of those.
"Hi"
Beck greeted
"Hey"
Ophelia forced a small smile instead, standing up to leave.
"I'll see you when I see you"
She said turning to Ophelia.
Beck's hand shot out to stop her from moving any further and she shot him a deadly stare.
"Can we talk?"
"I have work to do"
"It won't take a minute."
Sayre considered it a moment- she didn't want to speak to him.
"A second"
- Writer
