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23

He meshed his fingers together, his fists clasped. “You didn’t … make a fool of yourself.”

“Are you sure I didn’t say anything inappropriate?” I needed to ensure this was all squashed, his response not satisfying me enough. “Sometimes, when I drink, I get a little flirty.” My hand flew to my chest. “Please tell me that didn’t happen. I would die.”

Madison had nothing on me.

He huffed out a bit of air, breaking eye contact to look at his hands. He licked across his lips, his brows furrowed as he glanced at me. “There’s no reason for you to worry.”

“Great.” I swallowed as the dryness faded, saliva finally entering my mouth. “Well, I’m ready to get started. Whatever you need, just tell me. I’m here to help in every way. And, Declan”—I put my hand on his desk, not far from where his were, wanting to emphasize this point in any way I could—“even though I’m a Dalton, I expect you to treat me like I’m any other intern.”

His arms left the desk, and he pushed back into his seat, his eyes roami
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