Key To Your Heart

16

Roseanne

The problem is, I don't want to keep things professional. I said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your boss. Now, I'm lying in bed wearing Lisa's shirt, food baby forgotten, wishing she'd sneak down the stairs and crawl in with me.

I try to talk myself out of it so many times. We already almost got caught once. But my body doesn't care-and neither does my heart. I want her hands in my hair, her warm skin against my own.

Which is why I creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake Lucy. One peek into her room at the top of the stairs and I see her sprawled like a starfish. My lips curve up at the sight and then I very, very gently shut her bedroom door before padding down to the primary bedroom at the opposite end of the hallway.

The door is closed and no light shines from beneath. Some people might hesitate to march into Lisa's bedroom.

I am not one of those people. I twist the handle and walk right in. Her curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. The door clicks shuts behind me and I walk across to the king-sized bed. Much like Lucy, she is all long limbs stretched out in the middle.

Unlike with Lucy, I don't turn away.

I press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in her direction. Her breaths are deep and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. I think I'd settle for just lying here beside her, breathing her in.

Instead, I kneel at her side. Soaking her in, so relaxed.She looks younger-more carefree-like this.

With one hand, I trail the tip of my fingers over her lips-just like I did that day in the closet. I'd been on the verge of asking her if she ever thought we could be more. It seemed unfair to me in that moment that one of the best people I've ever known was standing right in front of me, telling me how valuable I was, and that I couldn't have her.

But now the only question I find myself asking is why the hell not?

Her strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around my wrist. "Rosie."

It's not a question. She knows it's me.

"Hi."

"What are you doing?" she asks from behind closed eyes.

"Touching you."

Her lips curve up in a sinful smile. "I thought we were being professional."

"Right," I whisper. "It's just that I thought about it and decided being professional is overrated. I want you to touch me too."

For only a moment, I'm taken back to that day in the boardroom. I told Steve that if I wanted him to touch me, I'd tell him.

Lisa may be my boss on paper, but nothing about our relationship is reminiscent of that. Nothing between us is dirty-not in that way. Nothing about us needs to be a secret if neither of us wants it to be.

A raspy chuckle spills from her as her eyes open and dive into my own. Chills erupt from the back of my neck, racing down my spine and over my arms.

"And you kept all your clothes on earlier, which felt distinctly unfair to me. So, I came looking for you."

"And you found me."

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I nod.

"So what now?" she asks from beneath a quirked brow. "I don't know." I suddenly feel nervous. I snuck up here with no plan, only knowing I wanted to be close to her. "Do you want me to leave?"