Colleagues Read online

  He put his left hand on her good, right foot—there really was nowhere else to put it—and his right on the arm rest. And somehow, just that familiarity seemed to break the tension.

  She started making comments about the characters, and he found himself laughing at her sense of humor. He looked over a couple times to find her watching him, and he consciously tried to smile back.

  After the movie, they decided on a Chinese takeout place she liked, then started another movie while they waited for it to arrive. When it did, he gently put her feet down on the couch, went to the door and paid, brought it back to the table and went into the kitchen to grab forks and glasses.

  “Sorry about the mess in there,” she yelled over the movie.

  “No problem at all,” he said as he came out, forks and glasses in hand.

  “I really am so embarrassed you’re seeing this mess, William.”

  He placed his cargo down on the table and leaned over it, looking directly at her.

  “Hope. Stop.”

  She looked up at him and scrunched her face. “Annoying again?”

  “Oh, my word,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

  She laughed.

  Later that night, when he reflected on the next moment, he wasn’t sure where he had gotten the courage, or the gall, to do what he then did next. Because he wouldn’t ever have done it if he’d been in his right mind. But once he’d done it, he was glad he couldn’t un-do it.

  He had walked directly between her and the coffee table on her side of the couch, sat on the coffee table and leaned his elbows on his knees. He had looked her right in the eyes from that close proximity and said, “You. Don’t. Annoy. Me.”

  She had stopped laughing but sat there with a small smile on her face.

  “You sure?”

  And he’d leaned forward—what the hell am I doing—and kissed her. For about one second, she didn’t respond, and frankly, he was waiting for her to push him away, but then she leaned forward into him and kissed him back. His hands were already close to her, so he reached over and held her closer to him, trying to be as gentle with her as possible. Her arms had gone around his neck, and they sat there for several moments, engaged in that kiss.

  When he broke away, he leaned against her forehead.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Wow…that was…”

  But William didn’t want her to analyze it, so he reached down and kissed her again, and she responded again. He deepened the kiss, willing her to understand what he was terrible at saying out loud.

  When she finally ended it this time, he was out of breath, and she had her eyes closed still. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek again, near the edge of her lips.

  “How do you feel about inter-office dating?” He said as he pulled away.

  She laughed a breathy laugh.

  “Uh, evidently I’m all for it.” And she opened her eyes to look at him. “But are you?”

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for about a year, so I’d say, yeah.” He kissed her lightly again.

  “A year?”

  “Well, probably for three. But I figured it out a year ago.”

  “You suck at communicating.”

  “Told you.”

  And he kissed her again.

  Two weeks later, Hope was talking to Christian again in her office—with the door intentionally left open—when William walked past on his way to his office. He made eye contact with her, and she opened her eyes wide in a “help me” gesture. Please, Prince William!

  He kept walking to his office but was back in a moment, hovering in her doorway in his enormously intimidating way.

  “Professor Carslisle,” he started.

  “Yes, Professor Nash? Sorry, Christian, one moment,” she said.

  “I was hoping you had time to discuss that article you were working on for the MLA,” he began.

  “Oh, of course. Christian, did you get enough to go on? I’m sure your paper will be great.”

  The kid made a smarmy face at her—probably his attempt at a smolder—and took his time getting up from his seat and gathering his things (oh, brother, kid), but William grunted (or, as he insisted, he “cleared his throat”), and Christian looked up into a very impressive scowl. Hope could have sworn he even added jaw muscle-flexes into the look.

  She hid her smile, however, lest Christian think it aimed at him, and pretended to find something on her computer.

  “Professor Nash, let me just find that citation for you…”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her huge, sweet boyfriend scare the crap out of her student as the kid made to walk past him, and William folded his arms and barely moved. After a moment of intimidation, he slightly moved so the kid had room to duck through the door. She sniggered silently before looking up completely.

  “Idiot,” he grumbled.

  “Thank you,” she smiled up at him. “He’s just a creep.”

  “My pleasure, professor,” he said with a sweet smile. “Now that you’re safe, I have something for you,” and he ducked away into his office again, returning with a brown paper package.

  “What’s this?” she asked, taking it from his outstretched hand.

  “I found it a few weeks ago, but didn’t have the…uh…right…to give it to you yet,” he said softly.

  “Oooooooh?” She raised her eyebrow and smiled.

  “Just open it, you.”

  The brown paper turned out to be a bag wrapped around a book—the very old Dickens she had checked out in the bookstore all those weeks ago.

  She gaped up at him. “How—“

  “I was there that day and saw you circling it like a shark. I figured if you wanted it that bad, you should have it.”

  “Oh, William,” and she made her way around the desk, about to hug him.

  “Careful…” and he looked back into the hallway. He sneaked into her office all the way and shut the door, then moved past her, touching her arm, as he moved back to her blinds and shut them, too.

  When they were safely alone, she launched herself at him, reaching around him for a hug. “Thank you! This is amazing.”

  He reached down and smoothed some hair away from her face, “Yes, this is.”

  She chuckled as he reached down and kissed her.

  * * *

  The End

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