Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3)

by Tara Wyatt

  But if he’d meant them, why had he told her that she’d been a mistake? At work, he’d been acting as though absolutely nothing had happened between them, which only made her even more confused. Even more twisted up in knots over him. She went back and forth between assuming what they’d shared had been a pity fuck, and then being absolutely certain it had been more.

  So, yeah. She was a mess when it came to Max.

  “Willa?” he asked again, startling her out of her own brain and bringing her back to the present moment. She flushed from the roots of her hair to her chest, smoothing her damp palms over the furry stomach of her unicorn onesie.

  Oh, hell. She’d kind of forgotten she was wearing it.

  “Oh, um. Hey,” she said, trying to keep her tone light and casual, raising her hand in a dorky wave. She quickly dropped it to her side. Her eyes roved over him, greedy for the sight of him. He was wearing a thin gray sweater and a pair of black pants that hugged his thick, muscular thighs. Thighs she knew were bunched with muscle and covered with a dusting of wiry brown hair. A lock of hair had fallen onto his forehead and her fingers tingled with the need to reach out and smooth it back into place. He was clean shaven, as usual, showing off his chiseled jawline. A jawline she’d traced with her lips on the scariest night of her life.

  “Getting some sushi?” he asked, flinching a little at his own lame question. It was satisfying that at least he felt as awkward around her as she did around him. That had to count for something, right?

  She looked around, blinking wide-eyed. “Oh no, I thought this was Burger King. Dammit.” It was a lame joke, but the corner of his mouth tipped up and a little of the tension hovering between them eased. His gaze slid up and down her body, and she had to fight back a shiver. “Go ahead,” she said after a minute, licking her dry lips and then shooting him a smile. “Ask me.”

  Relief flickered across his face. “Okay, I’m dying to know why you’re in a unicorn costume.”

  She curtsied, flashing him another grin. Was it just her, or had the light in his eyes shifted, becoming hotter, more intense? “Cupcake the Unicorn at your service. I read stories to kids at Sloan-Memorial every other Saturday.”

  Something in his gaze softened and he nodded slowly. “Oh. That’s…that’s really nice.”

  She opened her mouth to say something about how she knew how much a distraction was worth when you were sick, but snapped her lips shut. This wasn’t the time or the place, and he wasn’t the guy to share that particular part of her life with. Hell, he probably wasn’t the guy she’d be sharing anything but her work life with. Sadly. So instead, she squinted at him and gestured at the door.

  “What are you doing all the way up here? This isn’t exactly your neck of the woods.” Her mind flashed back to his stunning penthouse in SoHo, which had to be a twenty-minute subway ride from where they were.

  He tipped his head in the direction of the door. “I had a meeting at the Museum of Modern Art about a potential project, and this woman at work keeps talking about how amazing Red Fox sushi is, so I thought I’d try it.” The corner of his mouth quirked up again, sending butterflies exploding through her stomach.

  The pendulum tracing a path over her heart did a hard swing from “pity fuck” to “it meant something” at the knowledge that he’d sought out a restaurant she’d recommended. It was a stupid thing to get excited over, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Well, I hope it lives up to the hype,” she said. She met his eyes and an awkward silence fell between them. A wave of intense emotion rocked through her, stealing her breath. She curled her hands into fists, steeling herself against the hurt, the sense of loss at standing here with him and knowing he didn’t want her while she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life. Maybe more than she’d ever want anyone else.

  He pushed off the wall and took a step toward her, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his brow furrowed.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath, her stomach dipping at the subtle hint of his aftershave. “I…I don’t know how to answer that question,” she said. “I’m…” She looked away, shaking her head. She didn’t want to tell him everything swirling through her brain only to be rejected again, and given the way he’d been acting at work, as though he hadn’t made her come four times, as though he hadn’t told her she was beautiful and held her naked body against his as they slept, she had a feeling that nothing had changed on his end. She was still a mistake.

  “You’re what, Willa?” he asked, his gaze hot and intense on her now.

  “I don’t know how to act around you anymore,” she said quietly. “I don’t—”

  “Number twenty-three!” called the woman from behind the counter, a clear plastic takeout bag in her hand.

  “That’s me,” she said, stepping away from him and slipping her hand into her pocket, which only held her keys. Feeling a little frantic, she tried her other pocket, finding her phone and nothing else. Oh, shit. She’d left her wallet on the table in the volunteer room after getting it out to buy a 50/50 raffle ticket for the hospital’s foundation.

  “Shit,” she whispered, trying her other pocket again, even though she knew she’d left her wallet at the hospital.

  Before she could stop him, Max stepped up to the counter. “Just add it to my order,” he said, handing the woman behind the counter his credit card. After he’d paid, she handed him the bag, which Max turned and handed to Willa. His fingers brushed hers as she took it, making her skin tingle with awareness. He blew out a breath and shoved his hand in his pocket. They stood there awkwardly, staring at each other as she clutched her food.

  “Um, thank you,” she said, trying to act somewhat normal. “I’ll pay you back on Monday morning.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Number twenty-two!”

  He turned to take his order and she couldn’t stop herself from scanning the contents of the bag. Relief coursed through her when she saw that he’d only ordered a little bit more food than she had—it wasn’t enough for two people.

  Had he been with anyone else in the six weeks since she’d woken up in his bed? Oh God, she didn’t want to know. Just the idea made her stomach churn, as did the idea of being with another man. She hadn’t been even remotely interested in anyone else since her night with Max.

  “Do you want a ride?” he asked. “I’m parked around the corner.”

  “No!” The word came out louder and more frightened sounding than she’d intended. She cleared her throat and forced herself to smile. “No, thank you. I’ll just walk back to the hospital to get my wallet, and…” She shook her head. “Thank you,” she said, holding up her takeout bag. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “You’re welcome, Cupcake.”

  Her cheeks flamed and she stumbled backwards out the door and onto the sidewalk, nearly colliding with a man walking his dog. Before she could embarrass herself any further, she stepped around the man and started walking up the street at a rapid pace, heading back toward Central Park. She didn’t care that she had to walk all the way back to the hospital. The only thing that mattered was putting distance between her and Max because being around him, especially outside of the office in such a casual, normal setting, hurt too much. It was like this teasing glimpse of something she’d never have. She could imagine how it’d be. Walking through Central Park with Max, holding hands, talking, laughing, enjoying the sunshine. Then they’d stop by Red Fox, get way too much sushi and take it back to his place. They’d watch the sun set over the city as they stuffed their faces and then fell into bed, where they’d spend the rest of the night.

  It was a beautiful vision, but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t true. No, the truth was that he’d felt sorry for her, had tried to distract her from the terror she’d experienced with sex, and then had kicked her out the next morning. It didn’t matter what he’d said in the heat of the moment. It hadn’t been anything more than pity on his par
t. And fool that she was, she was still pining after him, six weeks later.

  It was pathetic, and Willa Banks didn’t do pathetic.

  Squaring her shoulders as she walked, she knew she had to find a way to get over this. Because Max Prescott would never be hers, and she needed to accept that.

  5

  The first thing Max saw when he stepped into his office on Monday morning was a neat little pile of cash right in the center of his desk. He knew without more than a cursory glance that it would be forty-two dollars and forty-seven cents, the exact amount of Willa’s sushi order. She’d said she’d pay him back, even though he’d been happy to help her out. It had felt good to be able to come to her rescue in some small way. He snorted out a breath as he stared at the money. Right. As if buying her dinner could atone for everything else. For what he’d done and how he’d made her feel.

  He closed his eyes, pain forming into a cold, hard knot right in the center of his chest as he forced himself to remember the hurt in her eyes as he’d watched her leave. She’d had her world turned upside down with fear and violence and then he’d just piled right the fuck on, making her feel like he’d taken her to bed out of pity. Making her feel like he didn’t want her when he spent every single second of every single damn day wanting her.

  And God, the wanting. It had only gotten worse in the weeks that had passed. Every glimpse of her was like a drop of water in the desert. Every time he heard her voice was like sunshine after a long winter. He found himself structuring his days around trying to get as many of those tiny tastes of her as possible, a task she hadn’t made easy because she was clearly avoiding him.

  Not that he could blame her. Not for one fucking second.

  Did she regret their night together? Because he didn’t. He didn’t regret anything that had happened that night—helping Lucian save her and Kayla, and the incredible sex that had followed. No, it was the morning after that he regretted. He would’ve cut off his damn arm to avoid hurting her, but he’d let things go too far and he’d had no choice. And even though he’d hurt her, he couldn’t bring himself to wish it had never happened. He was too selfish for that.

  With a sigh, he picked up the money and shoved it in his pocket, his mind drifting back to how ridiculously cute and unintentionally sexy she’d looked in her unicorn outfit, bits of glitter clinging to her cheeks. She’d been dressed up because she volunteered at the hospital, reading books to sick kids. Because of course she did. That was the type of person she was—warm and giving and caring.

  The type of person who deserved far better than a broken bastard like him.

  He set his laptop bag down and settled in at his desk, bracing himself for the morning ahead. Today was beta test launch day for Tapp’s Blind Date app, something they’d been working on since last fall. Willa was the project lead and she’d be taking everyone through the launch this morning. Knowing he’d be seeing her shortly had him feeling both relieved and slightly on edge.

  I don’t know how to act around you anymore.

  God, he was such an asshole.

  Pushing it all deep down, he forced himself to focus on work. After checking his emails and returning a couple of quick phone calls, he headed down the hall to the large conference room where Willa and several others were already setting up. His heart stuttered, stopped, and then restarted again at double time at the sight of her. Her hair was smooth and straight, falling around her jaw, and she wore a formfitting dark pink dress topped with a black blazer. A small gold chain looped around her neck, emphasizing her delicate collarbones. Lust, hot and sharp, seared through him, and he clenched his jaw, fighting it back.

  “Good morning,” he said casually, stepping into the room. Everyone looked up from what they were doing to greet him. Everyone except Willa, who appeared intently focused on the screen of her laptop. After a moment, she looked up, her eyes landing on him. He’d taken a seat at the far end of the conference table, leaning back in his chair and crossing his ankle over his knee.

  “Good morning,” she finally said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

  “Are we on time?” he asked, glancing around the room.

  She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re all set. Everyone who agreed to participate in the beta test will be joining us via Zoom in about five minutes and I’ll walk them through the functionality of the app, the test parameters, reporting bugs, everything.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all handled. I admire the way you took this project on and ran with it,” he said, and every head in the room swiveled in his direction. Okay, so he didn’t exactly hand out compliments on the regular. He knew that he had a reputation around the office for being grumpy and short and demanding, and he got away with it because it was his damn company.

  Willa blushed, a pretty pink spreading from her cheeks and up into her hairline. It was very similar to the way she flushed when she came, and just the recollection of it had blood rushing to his cock. Fuck.

  “Thank you, I appreciate that,” she said, a hint of wariness in her voice, and he knew she was wondering if he’d paid her the compliment because of her work or because they’d slept together and he was trying to smooth over the awkwardness between them.

  “I mean it. You’ve done excellent work bringing this from conception to beta in less than a year.”

  She stared at him for a second and then nodded. “I’d better get ready.”

  She sat down in front of the laptop at the front of the room, spreading notes out to the side that Max was confident she wouldn’t need. The few other employees sat down around the table, off camera. This was Willa’s show this morning, one he was happy to let her run. She’d worked hard on this project. While the original idea had been his—it had come to him after a conversation with his younger brother Theo last year—he didn’t have time to run projects and write code like he used to now that Tapp had grown into a multi-million dollar tech company. Willa had shown interest and enthusiasm in the project from the start, so he’d been happy to pass it off to her. Although he had to admit, he missed tinkering and playing. His days were spent on big picture strategy, courting investors, marketing and development, networking, and supporting project leaders like Willa.

  “Hi everyone,” she said from the front of the room, smiling widely, her gorgeous hazel eyes flashing. “Thanks so much for joining us this morning. We’re very excited that Tapp’s first ever dating app, Blind Date, is ready to enter the beta test phase. Thank you to all of you who volunteered to help us complete this final phase of testing before we take it to market, hopefully before the end of this year. You should’ve all received a link to download the app—if you didn’t, please email blind date support at tapp dot com and we’ll get you set up. Once you’ve downloaded the app, you’ll be prompted to log in with the username and password you were assigned. The usernames are generic—BetaTestAccount1, BetaTestAccount2 and so on—but you’re able to change it if you click on the gear symbol in the top right corner. We’ve had issues with updated usernames not saving, so if this happens to you, please report it. In the bottom right hand corner, you’ll see a symbol that looks like a little beetle. Click that to report any bugs you find—the reporting module will walk you through how to do that.”

  She took a breath, smiled and then clasped her hands together. “So, first things first, let’s walk through the app. Blind Date is unique in that there are no photos allowed. The purpose of the app is to connect with someone without superficial judgement. This is the opposite of Tinder, where you see a photo, make a snap judgement and swipe left or right without knowing a single thing about the person. Blind Date encourages connection and in-depth communication.

  “When you first activate your profile, you’ll be prompted to fill in a few details: your age, your location, the age range you’re interested in, geographical limitations, sexuality, and gender preferences. This is an area where we’re striving to be as inclusive as possible, so if you see something missing, please fill
out a bug report. Then you’ll take a detailed personality questionnaire carefully designed by a team of relationship therapists and psychologists. For the best results, fill it out as honestly as possible. Your answers are private and won’t be shared with others or mined for data. It shouldn’t take you longer than thirty minutes to fill out the questionnaire. We’ve had some issues with questions not loading, so please report this bug if it happens to you. I think we have it worked out on iOS, but there were still some small issues on Android, especially devices running older versions.

  “Once you take your personality questionnaire, sit back and wait for your matches. As more people complete the questionnaire, you’ll get more. Your matches are people with whom you have the best compatibility based on your personality profile and your set preferences. You’ll be shown anyone with whom you have at least seventy percent compatibility, and you’ll have the ability to message any of your matches.

  “Now, I know what you’re thinking—wouldn’t it be easy for people to get matched and then just send pictures? We thought of that too, which is why the chat is specially designed and encrypted to only allow for text. No images, no GIFs, no media of any kind. At the start, you can’t even use numbers in the chat. I mean, if you want to exchange phone numbers by typing it all out so that you can then send pictures to each other, you can. But we’re hoping that the people using this app will be drawn to it for its unique focus on communication and connection.

  “Once you start chatting with someone, your connection meter will grow, depending on the frequency and number of messages you exchange. You’ll see the heart icon beside the person’s username change from a light pink to a dark red. The more messages you exchange, the more features you unlock, such as being able to send short voice messages. When you reach dark red, you’ll unlock the ability to have a video call with your match.”