"Are you seriously asking me out right now?"

"Of course not." He pauses. "Why, would you say yes if I did?"

"No."

"We'll get something light. Chinese food." His forehead creases. "I'm always starving thirty minutes after I gorge on Chinese. Why is that?"

I glare at him in lieu of a response.

"Okay, no egg rolls for you. Got it." He continues as though I'm fully engaged in the conversation. "Appetizers and drinks."

"Stop."

"Fine, fine. Just the drinks, then. You convinced me." He pushes off the desk and takes a step closer. His eyes gleam with good humor. "Unless you change your mind and want to grab dinner afterward, of course."

Shameless. The man is completely, totally, one hundred percent shameless.

I wonder why I find that so sexy.

"You're trying to distract me again," I say in an uppity tone.

"Is it working?"

"No." Yes.

"Most girls would love to have dinner with me."

"I can't imagine why."

He laughs and the sound pools in my stomach like a warm shot of whiskey. "You'll cave eventually. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm extremely persistent when I find something I want." He takes another step in my direction. "Like the time I was in Thailand and I wanted a massive quarter-pounder with bacon and American cheese. It wasn't easy, I had to drive almost a hundred miles... but I found a burger place. And damn if it wasn't the best burger I ever had."

"Do you take anything seriously?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Not if I can help it."

"So you aren't at all concerned about the fact that the entire WestTech server is down?"

He sighs. "You want to know what I'm concerned about?"

"Not really, no."

"Cronuts." He gestures at the plate of leftover baked goods on the sleek coffee table to his left. "I mean... is it a doughnut or is it a croissant? Who decides these things?" He shakes his head, as if deeply troubled. "What if someone put a gun to your head and made you separate all baked goods into categories? What then, huh? Where the hell would the cronuts wind up?"

I pause. "You think that's a likely scenario?"

"Highly probable."

I shake myself out of doughnut-related thoughts and contort my face back into my Ice Queen mask. "You're distracting me again."

"Am I?" he asks.

"You know why I'm here."

"Yes, we've discussed this already. You simply couldn't stay away." He takes another step toward me. "I mean... I've been told my kisses are irresistible, but this is taking things to a whole new level."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Too late. I'm flattered." He takes another few steps. "How could I not be? You went through so much trouble to get my attention."

"Trouble?" I scoff. "Hacking your server took about as much brain power as chewing a stick of bubblegum."

"Speaking of bubblegum," he cuts in. "Funny story-"

"No!" I yell. "No more stories. No more tangents. No more charm or half-smiles or stupid little ploys to make me forget why I'm here."

"Charm, huh?" He winks. "Stop, you'll make me blush."

I glare. "You took my thumb drive."

"Did you say hump time?"

"Are you in seventh grade?"

"Sixth, actually, but I'm old for my year-"

"Shut up! God, how has no one strangled you yet? Are you always this annoying?"

"Would you believe, usually I'm even more annoying."

"My flash stick." I glare at him. "Portable hard drive. Fits in a USB slot."

"That was a lot of technical jargon for a dumb elementary schooler like myself. All I heard was something about me driving my stick into your slot."

"Cut the shit, okay? I know you have it and I want it back."

"How do you know I have it?"

"Because..." I feel my cheeks heat. "You're the only one who could've taken it."

"When?"

"When what?"

"When would I have taken it?"

God, he's going to make me say it. I grit my teeth. "Perhaps when you had your hands down my dress last night."

"Oh, right." His grin widens to epic proportions. "Then."

"Just admit you have it so I know I'm not wasting my time."

"I'll tell you whether or not I have it..." He pauses. "If you tell me your name."

"You can't blackmail me," I hiss. "I'm already blackmailing you!"

"How's that?"

I throw my hands up. "Oh, I don't know, maybe the blockade I created in your entire computer system?"

"Oh, right." His grin is unwavering. "That."

"Yes, that," I snap, slightly offended that my efforts at sabotage are being brushed off with such little concern.

"I'm sure my tech guys will figure it out. Eventually."

I snort. "Have you met your tech guys?"

"Unfortunately, yes." He stares at me and some of the humor bleeds out of his eyes. His voice goes low. "Tell me your name."

My heartbeat picks up speed. "No."

"Fine. Then I can't confirm or deny that your flash drive is in my possession."

"Jesus Christ." I look up to the heavens, seeking divine intervention. "This is torture."

"This? No. This is a conversation between... friends."

"We aren't friends."

"You're right." He shakes his head. "We're so much more, snookums. Our connection... it's deeper than words."

"I loathe you."

"You love me."

I snort. "The day I love you will be the day the Red Sox and Yankees have a giant group hug on the mound at Fenway. Never gonna happen."

"Come on. Tell me your name. I'm dying over here."

"In that case, I'll just wait for you to keel over, step around your corpse, and ransack your office until I find my flash drive."

"Stone cold." He shakes his head. "I bet you don't want to tell me because it's something hideous. Like Minerva. Or Beatrice. Or Millicent."

"My name is not Millicent."

"Whatever you say, Millie."

I roll my eyes. "I'll take Millie over your other nicknames."

"Come on. You know my name," he points out. "It's only fair."

"Since when is anything in life fair?"

"Touche, snookums, touche."

"Call me that again and I'll kill you."

"Tell me your real name and I won't call you that anymore," he counters. "Well, I won't call you that as much. I don't want to make sweeping generalizations about my potential future pet name use-"

"Oh my fucking god! My name is Zoe. ZOE!" I shout, just to shut him up. "Are you happy?"

He takes another step in my direction and I suddenly - scarily - realize he's rather close. So close, in fact, that I can see those green flecks in his eyes up close and personal when they crinkle in a victorious smile and he murmurs, "Yes. I'm happy, Zoe."

Hearing my name from his lips causes a visceral reaction within me. My throat goes dry. My stomach somersaults. My nipples harden beneath my bra.

Shit.

He stares at me. "Zoe. Such a tiny name for such a big personality. It suits you."

I haul in a breath, hoping he doesn't notice that my thighs are suddenly clenched together.

God, what is it about this man? I want to strangle the life out of him... and fuck his brains out. All at the same time.

I've never experienced anything like it before.

"Can I have my flash drive now?" My voice is breathy.

"Must be something pretty important on it, if you're going to this much effort to get it back." His gaze flashes down to my mouth for a nanosecond. "I should probably ask you what's on it."

I pause. "Why don't you?"

"You aren't ready to tell me your secrets yet." His voice is steady. "One day you will be."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," I murmur.

"I can actually hold my breath for a pretty long time. Once, I swam a hundred meters underwater from-"

Before he can launch into another ridiculous stalling tactic, I reach up and flick him right between the eyes.

"Ow!" Flinching back, he rubs at his forehead. "What was that for?"

I raise my eyebrows.

He grins. "Right. No more tangents. You didn't have to resort to violence."

I plant my hands on my hips and crane my neck to glare directly into his eyes.

"Okay, okay. You win." He holds his hands up in surrender. "Fix the computers and I'll give you your damn flash drive."