Chapter Two:

Monday, February 8th, 2016

8:06 A.M.

I almost forgot about the deal I made with my roommate. Almost.

I shouldn't have been so naive to think I could stop thinking about Trey for five seconds. He's always been on my mind, he's all I can think of.

Some people might say I'm obsessed. Maybe I am.

During the weekend, Kayla never ceased to amaze me. Every second she passed by me, she reminded me, whispered in my ear, and shouted to me as I left the apartment. In every conversation we had, she managed to slip it in.

"Don't forget!" she'd say.

"I'll punch you in your pretty face!" I wanted to say back. I'm quite surprised I didn't. I really did want to.

By the time the constant pestering quit, it was Monday morning. I ran out the door before Kayla could remind me again.

For a split moment, I felt strength; resistance. I wasn't sure I could do it, and maybe that was a good thing. I could hold myself back.

At least that was my state of mind before now.

I open the glass door to Royal Enterprises. The intense smell of fresh wax on the marble floors hits my nose. The pacing employees envelopes in my sight.

I love this job. It gives me a reason to be busy, to be distracted from the ill thoughts in my head. The only issue I've ever faced is Trey.

As if thinking the devil's name brings him before you, Trey Donovan passes by me. He turns his head, maybe because he could feel my eyes on his face. Slowly, a heart stopping smile spreads.

Did he just smile at...me? My lips part, a warm breath escapes from the space.

That was the invite I need. The signal I had to see. The push I want.

Go. Go now. Ask him. Take charge. GO.

My eyes follow Trey like a hawk. I feel my feet move before I can give my brain the 'yes' to follow him.

The Payless flats on my feet slap the carpeted floor quietly. I turn corners seconds after Trey does. I silently pray that he goes someplace secluded. Yet, at the same time, the more open and crowded, the better.

I want everyone to see me claim him.

He slips into the bright break room, disappearing from sight. I take a quick deep breath before I enter too.

I pause in the doorway.

Trey stands at the counter, coffee pot in hand as he pours the dark liquid into a gray mug. I wait to let him finish, expecting him to put cream or sugar into the cup, but he doesn't. He drinks his coffee black.

He just got ten times hotter.

"Trey?" I speak up, but his name comes off of my mouth soft and mellow. I take a step further into the room.

Placing the mug down, he glances up and over. For the first time, his narrow dark eyes stare at me - only me - for longer than three seconds. He holds a straight expression. "It's Rachel... Rachel Summers, right?"

Excitement bubbles in my throat. He knows my name. "Yeah, it is." Uncontrollably, I grin, feeling that familiar sensation in my stomach. It tells me to jump, to go for what I crave.

I crave him.

"What's up?" he takes another sip of coffee, placing the cup back down, his eyes moving down for a split second. I watch his throat as he swallows, seeing the way his adam's apple bobs up and then down.

The silent encouragement in my head cheers for me. Do it. Ask him. Just DO IT.

It's like that feeling when you run, swing your arms up, and do a triple cartwheel tumble - or whatever it's called in gymnastics. It's sudden, turns your life upside down, and gives you a better rush than any illegal drugs off the streets.

"Are you single?" That very small sensible part of me tells me to clear the smoke before emerging. If he has a girlfriend, I'm fucked.

He seems surprised, and I get the impression that the question I asked was unwelcome. But my heart jolts in my chest when I see the corners of his mouth start to lift under his thick stubble. "Why do you ask?"

My short-lived relief is washed away. "You're not, are you?"

A broad grin breaks out onto his face, and he chuckles lightly. "No, I am. I'm very single."

That intense sensation stirs and slips from my stomach to my core. Just listening to him say seductive words in an alluring tone with that low voice gets me riled up.

I manage to glance away from his irresistible gaze. I reach into the bag slung over my shoulder, taking out the envelope I had placed right on top of the rest of the contents inside. With a coy smile, I hand it to him. "Here,"

His eyes flicker down at the blank white envelope. "What's this?" He flips it and opens it in less than five seconds. As he slides the red and pink card out, his eyebrows raise towards his scalp, and his eyes meet mine again.

"Will you be my valentine?"

Trey bursts into laughter. It isn't a mocking or making fun of me kind of laugh. It's different.

I never look away. I watch as his eyes move and assess me for a minute. Maybe he's trying to see if I'm bullshitting him. "Are you serious?"

Nodding, I bite the corner of my lip. "Yes. I am."

He runs a hand through his black, combed-back hair. When he finishes, it becomes a bit unruly. But it looks perfect to me.

For a second, he says nothing. He looks away, down at his coffee, and then at the Valentine's Day card I picked up at Walgreens this weekend. He sighs, and my guilt appears.

I shouldn't have done this. He's denying me, burning me. I'm a fucking screw up.

"Does Sunday evening work?"

My head whips up at him from my shoes. My neck protests from the rushed movement, but my thoughts overwhelm it. "What?"

His classic smirk returns. Do I amuse him? "Sunday is Valentine's Day. And if I recall, you asked me out. Does the evening work for you?"

I feel my heart pump, and the beat pulses in my ear. The guilt disappears, and satisfaction replaces it. "Yes, it does."

Trey writes his number down on a sticky note and passes it to me. "I'll see you then." He picks up his mug in one hand, and carries the card I gave him in the other. "In the meantime," he adds, our eyes locking, "I'll see you around the office."

As he walks past me, I get a sharp inhale of his spicy and dark cologne. I sigh in it, feeling the aroma wrap itself around me.

Going on a date is part of being normal. This is normal. There's no way this will mess up my chance at a happily ever after.

As much as the words cycle in my head, I'm not convinced. I just have this toxic feeling in the pit of stomach.

As long as I crave Trey, and the longer I have impulses after him, there will be room for error. And from the look of him, I just have the feeling that he will be trouble.

It might feel good and taste like sugary heaven at first, but the aftertaste will be bitter and sour.