*Reese

Unable to sleep, Reese pushed off the covers from her position next to Kenneth, who was completely sacked out.

Her bladder situation was becoming pressing (no pun intended) and she was craving sweets. She stole silently from the bed and tiptoed to the hall, searching for the bathroom.

Afterward, she made herself a cup of tea with honey and got her bag from the front hall. Intending to surf mindlessly on her computer, she tiptoed into Kenneth's den. He had an overstuffed two-seater along with his bookshelves, toys, and desk in there.

A scream jumped to her throat.

A man was there, standing silent in the shadows.

Reese covered her mouth and stifled the scream just as it started. Darn Kenneth and his freaking life-sized figurine of Darth Vader.

Heart racing, she closed the door and flipped on the light. She glared at the silent and judgmental Darth in the corner. They had stowed him away in there the night before when redecorating Kenneth's apartment, and she had been treated to a demonstration of the light sword, complete with goofy noises. Seriously. Electric swords in space?

Kenneth's den was cluttered with the toys she made him move in there, but it was cozy, and best of all it smelled like him. She searched her bag for her phone. His files for the worksheet responses were stashed in there, too, along with the envelope of money. Pausing, she eyed the white envelope.

Then it occurred to her. For the last two days, she had been avoiding the truth. Actively avoiding the truth, partly because she had assumed he was from the help desk, but also because maybe she didn't want to know. His apartment was spacious and in an imposing building, and he had dropped three thousand dollars without blinking. But Reese's boss knew him by his first name, and he himself scoffed at the idea of a promotion. She found LinkedIn on her phone.

Kenneth Jones Orbis Tech

Head of Key Product Development

His profile, set to private, came up, but it was enough.

Reese sat back on the sofa. So she really was an idiot. Kenneth had never once rung a bell. She was so wrapped up in her own affairs she had simply assumed that if he wasn't at the help desk, then he was another techie dude working on code.

But Kenneth was one of the most important players for their tech development, and tech was the reason Orbis Tech existed. He was vital.

He was out of her league.

That thought was a punch in the gut. A sour taste filled her mouth. Who was he really, and why would he be interested in her beyond the coaching?

Well, there was the sex. Was that all she was to him? An opportunity that fell in his lap?

The file with his worksheets was in her bag—she had been intending to return them unread when she refunded his fee.

It would be wrong to read them.

At this point, she should put the money and worksheets in his desk drawer and forget she tried to be his coach. She ran her tongue over her top teeth, fighting the war between temptation and good common sense.

But the keys to understanding his deepest desires and dreams were in those worksheets. She couldn't resist.

Five worksheets later, the nausea was firmly rooted in her gut. Her tea remained on the stand next to her, cold and untouched.

She should have known better. Worse. She had known better but hadn't listened to herself.

On the other hand, this way she could still save herself from a world of disappointment and heartache.

Reese padded through the apartment, gathering her things. She let herself out the door without waking Kenneth.

All the way home, a hundred phrases and snippets from his answers turned in her head.

...not too picky, but my ideal woman would be blonde or fair, slim, and not too short...should definitely have a higher education degree, preferably in science...Master's or PhD, an intellectual...politics, Cthulhu, interstellar phenomena...I want to travel extensively, she should enjoy exploring the world...ready for adventure...love sci-fi, cosplay...critical analysis of projected civilization ideals...

Reese was deathly afraid of planes. Her measly Bachelor's of Accounting paled compared to a PhD in biology or computer science like his. Sci-fi movies? Ugh. She just, just couldn't. And those weren't even the worst answers.

I've developed the habit of running about an hour a day and would like to share my new-found enjoyment of engaging in physical activity. The benefits are clear. A jogging partner would be extremely appreciated.

Jogging. She shuddered in horror. Running was for escaping chainsaw-massacre psychopaths and company. Kenneth should get a golden retriever if he enjoyed jogging.

Too many pieces didn't fit together. His dreams versus hers. The goals, the expectations. The careers. Nothing. It had been a fun experiment, but sex did not a healthy, lasting relationship make.

That look on his face when they were together, really together on the couch? He had been in awe of her. That look wouldn't last forever.

It was better to cut things off before that look changed.

*** Well, this is bad.... ***