Page 64 of Chasing Headlines

“You had your chance.”

Fine. If that was the way he was going to play it. I'd lettered in track in high school as a sprinter. The door was likely on a ten, maybe fifteen second delay. I could still win this.

I dropped my bag on the ground by the door—then unbuttoned the two top buttons on my blouse and adjusted…things. I pulled the scrunchy from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. I spun around, hiked up my skirt to mid-thigh and did my best Dublin Serra, runway model, impression—toward him. “You know, I never properly thanked you.” I lowered my lashes and swung my hips as I walked.

Cooper sat up in his chair. I glanced at the counter and found the button for the door, then met his eyes. “Your shirt, I love to wear it when I'm alone.” Did that sound sexy? I felt rather idiotic, but his gaze traveled lower as I continued my saunter. Maybe this was working? I needed to distract him, just for a fraction of a second.

He cleared his throat. His chair spun to face me. Those powerful thighs in scrub pants curved over the edge of the seat. His legs shifted as I grew closer, moving further apart. His shoes perched on top of the casters.Perfect.

He met my gaze as I leaned over him, placing one hand on the back of his chair. His pupils dilated. I dipped closer—into his very personal space. “I sleep in it at night.” I breathed against his ear. “Yourshirt, Breslin.”

His breath hitched. Something thudded onto the floor. His mouth opened and his tongue licked at his bottom lip. “And only . . .” Something magnetic pulled at me, urging me closer.

My heart thudded wildly. The heat from his skin, his woodsy, masculine scent, the faint sweetness of the apple I could likely taste on his tongue. If I just . . . moved . . . a bit closer.

Hefilled and overran my senses. I almost gave in to it.So tempting . . .

Almost.

I lurched backward, spinning his chair with a hard shove. I slapped my hand on the unlock button, then launched myself toward the door. I sprinted the length of the hallway, shoes slapping at the tile. Air whipped and crackled around me. I snagged the door handle and pulled. It flew open, crashing into the wall with a heavy thud. I stood there in the doorway for a few seconds, gasping for breath.

I snagged my bag from the ground and shot Coop a hopefully hate-filled glare.

He stood, leaning against the edge of the counter, arms crossed, lips twisted in that exasperatingly sexy, smirky look. I flashed him a grin and raised my middle finger.

And then the darndest thing happened: Breslin the Storm Cooper smiled.

I pulled the door shut behind me.

Chapter Seventeen

Olivia POV

Iknocked on the door marked 634. A woman's voice called out: “Just a second.” It wavered, but only a little.

I took a deep breath and sighed. I still wanted to kick Coop in the shins, the groin, maybe slap him across the face. All of the above.I've tried to be nice, but I'm done with that. With him. I swear, I'm done!

The image of him standing there, smiling at me, taunted my brain. Those scrubs leant him an easy-going air and reminded me of that picture of him and his dog.

The door swung open and a woman with greyish-white hair and vibrant hazel eyes stood on the other side. Her shoulders rounded a bit too much, but otherwise, she seemed . . . lively. Welcoming. She nodded at me. “You must be the young lady from the newspaper.”

“Well, the Texas State Techstudentpaper. But, yes that's me. Liv Milline.” I offered my hand in greeting, but it felt strange. I'm eighteen and this lady was older than?—

“Short for Olivia?”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.Such a stuffy, boring name: Olivia.

“No one pronounces Dorotea correctly in West Texas.” She chuckled. “So just call me Dotty. And come in, please. I was beginning to worry that something had happened.”

“Oh, uh, no. Just had a little hiccup at the front desk.” I gritted my teeth to keep my grousing locked inside.Had a run in with the official Texas State Tech butthead.

An uneven smile slid across her features as she shuffled aside. I stepped into her small but tidy apartment. Before I could attempt the usual pleasantries, the old lady caught me up in a tight hug. I lost my bag. My arms trapped at my side, I swallowed and stared over her head at the wall. After a second, the floral-powdery smell felt familiar. The grey pieces of her hair shone silver in the fluorescent light. I took a deep breath and patted her back.

She released me. “I'm from Texas, dear. We don't shake hands. Besides, you looked like you could use a little TLC.” She closed the door. “Please, sit down. I'll pour us some tea. Something relaxing. I can't do caffeine this late at night.”

I gave her a smile as I arranged myself in the chair she offered, on the side of the table near the full-length window. She busied herself stuffing tea bags into matching mugs—both marked with the university insignia on the side. “Still a fan?”

She glanced up. “What's that?”