The Nerds and the CEO (The Nerd Love Equation, #5)

by Allyson Lindt

  “Then where will you sleep?” She gripped her fingers and let him pull her to her feet.

  “Here.” Antonio gestured to the couch.

  “That’s not fair. I don’t want to steal your bed.” Despite the tiredness in her movements and her giddy tone, a clarity lay underneath.

  “Technically it’s not my bed. It’s Justin’s.”

  She grinned. “That’s brilliant.”

  Justin stared at her, trying to make sense of a series of mental tangents he couldn’t see or fathom. “What is? Me having a bed?”

  “Yes and no. We’ll all sleep in your bed. That way, no one has to sleep alone, and no one has to sleep on the couch.” Her logic was ridiculous.

  “Makes sense to me,” Antonio said.

  Maybe Justin didn’t have the brain power to process.

  No. He was pretty sure there was a flaw in the decision, but he didn’t have the desire to argue. “All right.”

  When he woke up the next morning, Emily lay facing him, Antonio behind her with an arm draped over her hip. Her shirt had crept up her stomach in the middle of the night, and the shoulder fallen down, leaving temptation on display.

  Justin trailed a finger lightly along her bra strap, not processing how intimate the gesture was until her eyes fluttered open and she grabbed his wrist.

  “That tickles.” Despite the words, there was no protest in her voice.

  Could they do what they’d done last weekend, and share? Have fun, all three of them? “Would you rather I was doing something else?”

  She stretched, which from Justin’s prone angle looked like she pressed back into a now very awake Antonio at the same time. “What did you have in mind?” she asked. “Remembering I learn best in a hands-on environment.”

  “I’m sure we can figure something out.” Antonio glided his hand under the elastic of her panties, and she sighed.

  While Justin didn’t think two times made a habit, he was willing to take the risk.

  THE NEXT WEEK AND A half passed the same way—weekdays filled with plowing toward the deadline, another weekend mixed with PP work, and both spiced by a healthy dose of play. By some unspoken rule, sex never happened without all three of them, as far as Justin knew. It was working. He didn’t have any complaints.

  They were going to meet their beta cutoff date with a working product. PP was a few weeks delayed, but it would be ready to wow the board shortly after.

  One thing nagged at Justin, and the closer their dates loomed, the harder it was to ignore. No one mentioned it, but when this was all over, Emily would move on to another project. The three of them didn’t have any sort of a romantic relationship, but without the guise of coming together for work, Justin didn’t think it was right to suggest she show up as a booty call. In fact, the notion left a foul taste in his mouth.

  His phone rang, and he answered it, lost in thought. “This is Justin.”

  “Hey.” A familiar female voice tickled his memory. “It’s Lia. How have you been?”

  His ex-fiancée. Every muscle in his body tensed. “Fine.” He tried to keep his voice pleasant.

  “I’m glad to hear it. I was wondering—can I see you?”

  “WHERE’S THE OLD MAN?” Andrew asked.

  Antonio had never understood the nickname for Justin, but that was probably because he was closer in age to him than they were to Andrew. “This is the first night we’ve had off in a few weeks, so he had to run some errands. He’ll be by in an hour or two.” He didn’t know why he held back the full story. It might be because he couldn’t help his concern over what it meant that Justin was having coffee with Lia.

  Andrew and his fiancée, Susan, were seated in Antonio’s living room. Antonio was happy to see the couple, but it still took some getting used to. Andrew was the last person Antonio expected to settle down, and Susan was as much Andrew’s opposite as was possible. She was light to his darkness and optimism to his cynicism.

  Antonio had never seen Andrew happier.

  “That means we can gossip like school girls until he gets here.” Andrew smirked. “Tell me how it’s going. How are you two?”

  Antonio wanted to feign irritation at the comical tone, but the attitude made him smile. Andrew’s support and friendship when Antonio was younger were among the key reasons Antonio was able to admit to himself that he was bisexual. That also meant Andrew was the only other person besides Emily—and Susan soon, if she wasn’t already up-to-date on the situation—who knew how Antonio felt about Justin. “We’re... good.” Shit. Why did he hesitate?

  Andrew raised his brows. “Which sounds different than the stock answer of same as always.”

  “It’s been a long few weeks,” Antonio said.

  “I’ve heard. Not sure what that has to do with the conversation. What’s changed?”

  “We met this woman.” Antonio wouldn’t tell this to anyone else, but despite Andrew’s tendency toward storytelling, he was trustworthy and could keep a secret.

  Susan sat up a little straighter. “As in both of you?”

  “Don’t give her any ideas.” Andrew’s voice held a warning tone. “But what she said. Since when is there a we between you two, when it comes to women?”

  Antonio cringed. “That came out wrong. Justin met this woman, who turned out to be our new contractor, and things got complicated. She likes to be shared? I don’t have a better way to put it.”

  “People really do that? He”—Susan nodded at Andrew—“insists that’s movie magic and fantasy.”

  “And you believe him?” Antonio had a hard time swallowing that Andrew pulled off a comment like that with a straight face.

  She smiled and leaned her head against Andrew’s shoulder. “No. But I told him I did, because it’s flattering he’s vocal about keeping me to himself.”

  The ease with which the couple showed their affection for each other pinged a jealous chord in Antonio that he couldn’t ignore. He wanted something like that.

  Andrew growled. “Don’t tell people that. I have a reputation.” He turned back to Antonio. “Seriously, though. I’m trying to make sense of this. You meet this woman who doesn’t mind being the filling on a meat sandwich, and she’s sticking around, but you’re still hung up on him.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Not the vehement reassurance of I’ll always love him that I expected. What gives?”

  Antonio had been kicking this around in his head for the last couple of weeks, the questions growing more each day. It was both a relief and a shock to have someone he could talk about it with. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Not relationship wise. I don’t know that she’s the answer or the reason, but it’s enough to make me wonder if I’ve been hung up on Justin for so long, I’ve forgotten how to enjoy myself.”

  “Ten years, you’ve never said a word to him. Not that it’s my place to decide for you, but yeah, that sounds a bit like spinning your wheels.”

  “You’re a Scrooge.” Susan elbowed Andrew.

  He rolled his eyes, then pulled her into his lap. She squealed but didn’t try to break free. “Scrooge hates Christmas. I think love is for saps and losers.”

  “Which does that make you?” she asked.

  “A sap. Definitely.” Andrew kissed her.

  Susan shifted to face Antonio. “I don’t know you two nearly as well as Andrew does, but if you’d like my opinion...”

  “I would.” Antonio suspected she’d offer a more genuine and straightforward answer than he’d find anywhere else.

  “The few times I’ve seen the two of you together, the connection is pretty obvious. Don’t listen to Mr. Jaded here. Stop stalling. Tell Justin how you feel. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  The advice was exactly what Antonio wanted to hear, but it didn’t help ease his indecision. He had no idea what to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THIS WAS THE FIRST time since Emily entered the corporate workforce that she wasn’t looking forward to Friday. S
he tried to ignore the creeping surrender inside, but it wouldn’t be silenced. She stood in her bedroom, grabbing and discarding every T-shirt she owned. When did casual Friday become this difficult to dress for?

  The struggle had raged since before she stepped into the shower. She wanted to leave an impression and wear something cute and flirty. But she didn’t want to be obvious to anyone who didn’t know she was sleeping with the company’s founders. Then again, technically she wasn’t anymore, because Wednesday night they wrapped up her work on PP, they were taking the weekend off, and her regular contract would be up before the end of next week.

  Which was the real reason her mind refused to stay on a focused track. What she had with Justin and Antonio was nothing more than sex. There was no discussion around it beyond consent and whatever playful banter happened during the fact. She reminded herself it was because there was nothing to say. She didn’t see either of the men keeping silent if they had thoughts on the matter. She was the only one who was going to have a hard time letting go of two men she barely knew, who were obviously in love with each other, even if one wouldn’t admit it.

  Yeah, she was psyching herself out over something that would never be. Now seemed like as good a time as any to screw her head on straight and start acting rational. Fuck it. She grabbed the first shirt from the top of the reject pile and paired it with her most comfortable jeans.

  She moved into the kitchen and dropped a bagel into the toaster. Coffee was probably a bad idea, with her already on edge. The caffeine might send her brain clawing out of her skull, in an effort to discover a different answer than she’d already provided.

  “Hey, stranger.” Paul’s greeting startled her, and she whirled.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  He crossed the room and stopped less than a foot away. “I’m glad I caught you. Do you have a few minutes?” His words sounded stilted. Almost uneasy.

  “Sure, but not more than that. Work and all.” She hoped she didn’t come off as rude. The vibes he radiated amped her anxiety—as if it wasn’t already cranked to the max—and she didn’t understand why.

  “Right. With the sexy boss?” Paul leaned his shoulder against the fridge.

  The posture almost blocked her in the corner. “I suppose. What’s up?”

  “I need to tell you something, and I don’t think I’ve been going about it the right way.”

  Behind her, the toaster popped, making her jump. She wanted to reach back and grab her breakfast, mostly to give the gnawing in her gut a different source to chew on. “What’s up?” Great. She was so off kilter, she was repeating herself.

  He glided a palm down her arm, raising goosebumps of disdain as he passed, then intertwined his fingers with hers. “I know you see me as the guy you grew up with, but I want to find out what it takes to mean more to you.”

  “I— What?” It was a dimwitted response. She understood exactly what he meant. The words clicked with every misgiving she had since he showed up almost a month ago, confirming suspicions she hadn’t been able to give a name to. Apparently, she still struggled with the concept.

  “I like you, Emily. A lot. I have, for a long time. I’m wondering if you’d give us a chance. I don’t expect you to dive into anything head first, but we could start with dinner—the two of us alone—and see where things went from there.”

  That sounded simple enough. It was a sweet request, and the way he stared at their linked fingers, rather than looking her in the eye, was shy and endearing. Seeing what could be with Paul made more sense than lusting after two men she couldn’t have. She and Paul had a little in common. He’d be a way to move on and experience a healthy relationship.

  “Emily?” Concern filled his voice. “You still with me?”

  He expected an answer. She grasped at the I’d like that, that was the right reply. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” came out instead. “I don’t feel that way about you.” Unlike the confusion in her head, the words made sense. It was nice something did.

  “No?” He tightened his grip on her fingers until they ached. “How can you be so sure? You haven’t given it a chance.”

  “I don’t have to justify myself. Can we talk about this later? I need to get to the office.” She tried to work her hand free, subtly at first, but then with more force.

  He straightened up and slammed his palm against the fridge. It impacted with a loud slap. “I’d like to talk about it now, so I don’t have to wonder how many other guys you’re fucking every time you leave the house.”

  “I’m not sleeping with a roster of men. Not that it’s any of your business.” Acid burned in Emily’s throat. How was Cynthia sleeping through this?

  “Why him and not me? What makes this Justin guy so special?” He angled his body, blocking her escape.

  She’d never told Cynthia about Antonio. Until now, she wondered why not. Paul’s question might have sparked some deeper spiral of questions in Emily’s head if she weren’t focused on how quickly the situation deteriorated. “Nothing.” She tried to convince herself as well as Paul. “He’s a guy. That’s it. Nothing special. Nothing different. Nothing I’m hung up on.”

  “Then why won’t you give me a chance?”

  Was she talking to a brick wall? “I told you. I don’t feel it.”

  “We’ll fuck a couple of times, and then maybe you’ll feel it.” He squeezed her hand harder.

  She jerked from his grasp and shouldered him aside. “We won’t.” She didn’t dare look back as she grabbed her purse and keys and left the house. By the time she reached her car, she shook so bad, she dropped the keys on the sidewalk. She sank into the driver’s seat, and the adrenaline settled into her empty gut. What the hell was that?

  Emily needed to get out of here. She backed the car out of its spot, and made it around the corner before she had to pull over or risk steering herself off the road. It took several minutes of counting to ten and then four-hundred and fifty, before her pulse calmed enough that she could grip the steering wheel again. She grabbed her phone and sent Cynthia a quick text. We need to talk. Call me when you get up. She had no idea how to approach the subject, but she had to say something.

  In the meantime, Emily needed to get to the office. It was still early, and that meant silence and a chance to hide out in the cafeteria until she collected her thoughts. She reached work without any more freakouts. As she was walking inside, Cynthia called.

  “Morning.” Emily didn’t have the energy to act chipper. Cynthia would understand.

  “What did you do?”

  Or not. Defensiveness spiked inside Emily. “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry. That came out wrong. Paul is furious. Said you were in a foul mood when you got up. That you barely spoke to him in the kitchen, and you shoved him in your rush to get out the door. What’s going on?”

  “He told you that?” Emily almost choked on her disbelief.

  “It didn’t sound like you, but you’ve been working hard lately.” Sympathy bled into Cynthia’s words. “What really happened?”

  “He—” What? Didn’t force himself on her. He got a little aggressive and rude. “He told me he liked me.” Wow. That was weak.

  “Which, if you hadn’t been so busy screwing around for the last month, you would have noticed. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it that way. He’s really upset. Did that warrant you being bitchy?”

  “But backing me into a corner, twisting my hand so hard I thought my fingers might break, and telling me if we fucked maybe I’d learn to love him, warranted more than a casual, No thanks. Have a nice day.”

  “That’s not his story.”

  “Of course it’s not.” Was Emily overreacting? No. The confrontation with Paul was anything but innocent.

  “Then you’re calling my brother a liar?”

  “Are you saying I am, instead?” Emily didn’t want this to turn into a childish argument, but she was too frazzled to think through a better response.

  Cynthia sighed. “No. It’s not that. Listen
... Come back to the apartment, and we’ll talk about it. All three of us. It was a misunderstanding.”

  Except that it wasn’t. Emily knew what she’d been subjected to. “I have to work.” She disconnected and set her phone to silent, before dropping it in her purse. Now she had something new to obsess over. The thought wasn’t reassuring.

  ANTONIO TRIED NOT TO care that Justin stood them up last night. Told himself it was annoying because Andrew and Susan were only in town for the day. Insisted he didn’t care the cause was Lia.

  He didn’t believe his own bullshit.

  As he headed toward the office elevators, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Emily sat at one of the cafeteria tables on the patio, back to him and head in her hands. Might as well say hello.

  She didn’t look up when he pushed outside.

  “Billing extra hours?” he teased.

  She spun in her seat, expression blank. “I’m sorry—what?” Concern spread through him as he looked at her. Creases lined her forehead, and the edges of her eyes were puffy and red. Had she been crying?

  “Are you all right?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I’m fine. The long hours became such a habit, I think my body is rejecting the full night of sleep I got.”

  He hid his cringe at the reminder that those long hours had come to an end. “You’ll have to get back in the habit.”

  “I suppose so.” Her expression drooped further.

  “Really, what’s going on?” It had to be more than the work. She looked miserable.

  “Nothing. I’ll be fine with a little extra coffee.”

  “If you’re sure.” What was he going to do? Bully her until she gave him the answer he wanted? “Take your time. I’ll see you upstairs?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be there soon.”

  He hated to walk away with her in this state, but if she wasn’t sharing, there was nothing to be done for it. He made his way to his office and forced himself to dive into work. Emily settled at her desk about fifteen minutes later. No glance in his direction or acknowledgment of any kind.