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seconds that would have him so rattled.
    She didn’t know what to do, so she picked up her purple pen. An uncertain smile spread across her face. He kept staring at her—clearly at a loss for words—and now she started feeling the first uneasy tingles of anxiety. Damn anxiety! It was the trigger. The compulsion was guaranteed to follow.
    Oh God. It’s happening. No, no, no , Bailey thought, but she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the pens lined up in a neat, little row. Red, blue, black, green. Red goes first. Always. It always goes first. I use red the most. That makes sense. If I use it the most, then it has to come first. That’s not OCD. That’s common sense. I am in control of my OCD. If I want to move the red pen, I can. I have the power to move it . . .
    Reece watched the con tortions of her face, realization dawning that this chick may, in fact, like him. She was certainly growing more flustered by the moment. His chest swelled, and he found his footing.
    Well , well, well, he thought smugly. The tables sure have turned quickly. Look who’s making who nervous now?
    He cleared his throat and watched Bailey snap her head up, staring at him with the most helpless expression. He couldn’t know that it had nothing to do with him anymore. Once her anxiety set in, her sole focus was on her pens.
    “ Sooo,” Reece said, basking in his newfound confidence. He whipped out his hand and leaned to his left, certain of catching himself against her cubicle wall. That was his goal: to go for an effortless, casual lean. Maybe throw in a smoldering smile. But he missed the wall altogether and dropped like a sandbag to the floor.
    “Oh my God!” Bailey cried, stifling a laugh. “Are you okay?” She jumped up from her chair and offered her hand.
    Reece, mortified, nodded and scrambled to his feet. He chuckled and shrugged, adjusting his collar for something to do to avoid her eyes.
    “ Yeah, so that just happened,” he said.
    Bailey burst out laughing. It was the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard. Barring his complete humiliation, he was happy his mishap evoked that laugh. It was a singsong laugh. A bright melody. He realized she was the perfect person to go to when he had a bad day. She could laugh away his irritation.
    “I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “I’m not laughing at you . . .”
    “Yes, you are,” he countered, grinning.
    “I just . . . how on earth did that ha ppen?”
    “Obviously my peripheral vision blows,” he explained.
    “Ob viously,” she agreed, giggling.
    He sauntered into her workspace and leaned against her desk. Her laughter ce ased abruptly when he scattered her pens with his hand.
    He didn’t do it on purpose, Bailey.
    I know, she thought.
    Don’t. Freak. Out.
    I’m freaking out slightly.
    Don’t reach for the pens. His ass is right there.
    But I think I can get to them without accidentally touching his ass, she argued.
    And what if you can’t? Huh? Then you’ve touched his ass. You realize how weird that’d be?
    Bailey took a deep breath.
    “Are you okay?” Reece asked.
    “Sure!” Oh my God. I just screamed.
    Reece raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I don’t think I introduced myself.”
    I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. My pens are out of order . . .
    “I’m Reece.”
    “Like the candy?”
    He rolled his eyes. “Never heard that one before.”
    I can be careful. If I just reach out . . . Oh, fuck! You had to move?!
    “Sorry for the sarcasm,” he said when she didn’t reply.
    “No, no,” she said. “I don’t know why I asked you that. It was stupid. I’m sure you hear it all the time.”
    “It would have been nice if my parents just named me ‘John,’ but what are you gonna do, right?”
    “You can always change your name,” Bailey suggested. I’m going for it. I have to. I’ll die if I can’t fix them!
    She swiped her hand as quickly as possible over the pens, grazing his ass in the process.
    “That’s a peculiar thing to . . . Hey,