“This is inappropriate,” I breathed. “Unprofessional.”
Busy bodies ran around us as they the water and we the rocks. Dante didn’t have a care in the world about the people giving us side-eyes. I’d like to think I could hold my own, but I was trapped in his eyes. In his closeness. Every fibre of my being screaming out in opposition, but him embracing me now was reminding me of a night I’d like to repeat over and over and over and over…
“Then let’s be unprofessional,” Dante lowered.
“If anyone found out,” I quickly exhaled, “our positions in this campaign and within our companies will be compromised. We shouldn’t…we can’t…”