Shae blinked. Then he blinked again. Did she just say sixth floor? That was Kami's floor...oh, there it was. Goddamn guilt.
But not right now. No, he absolutely refused to allow weeks of negligent behavior, absolute avoidance and general jack-assery (all on his part) to catch up to him right NOW, of all times. Not when this grey-eyed angel was giving him that look, as though she was plotting his systematic undoing with a few whispery-sweet words and that damn lowcut neckline.
His stomach coiled into knots as he stood there, silently debating his course of action. He could practically feel her eyes on him, and he very nearly swelled with pride at the knowledge that he'd caught her interest- especially since the attraction was obviously mutual. The sound of the elevator DING! roused him from his brief reverie, and as the metal doors slid open before him, he shifted the pile of sketchbooks to balance precariously over his hip as he reached out with his free arm and pulled his pretty new plaything against his side.
In a matter of moments they were both inside the elevator car. Unable to keep a solid grip on the books with only one arm, he allowed the thick stack to drop noisily to the floor; several loose papers fluttered gently down around the both of them, producing a rather fitting image of passionate desperation as Shae proceeded to pay his nameless companion a very intimate sort of greeting.