16.
He's watching my face too closely as I imagine him in pain of my own volition.
His green eyes burn and blaze.
He steps forward.
I step back.
"Are we done here?" I ask, my voice betraying me because it fucking catches from his proximity.
"Do you want to be done?"
"What kind of question is that?"
His eyes dart toward my mouth.
I can't help but lick my lips just barely.
My heart.
It won't stop beating double time.
I might die.
The door swings open and I jump in surprise. Edward doesn't flinch.
Lauren. "Why's the door closed?"
17.
Without a single word, Edward angrily tosses the doorstop onto the floor, stalking out.
Lauren looks at me.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
My cheeks are burning; I can fucking feel them betraying me.
Leaving my mug, I rush out, too.
Ignore Lauren calling after me.
Ignore the looks of other colleagues who glance up at the distraction.
I hurry into my office, grab my purse and phone, and head toward the elevator.
Edward's standing there, frantically pressing the button, his other hand fisting his hair.
He sees me.
The elevator dings open.
He steps inside.
So I take the stairs.