I have to admit, I never thought it’d be such a serious conversation either, but flirting flew off the table the second Frank put Celeste Trevainne’s ghost between us. I might want a release. I might deserve some fun, with or without feelings involved, but I wouldn’t demean myself to be with someone who could never appreciate me and what I offer because he’s too hung up on his past to care. I’ve been disrespected, abused, and abandoned by too many people already to allow anyone to do it again—even myself.
I need to draw a line between us. One that I’ll think twicebefore crossing again. Dax and Aiden are a temptation that I fear I can’t deny, even though I know how badly they’ll hurt me, whether or not they mean to. I need to pull away now. Make it impossible.
“About that,” I begin. Dax straightens in his chair. “I’m sorry I led you to believe…” I can’t even bring myself to say the words out loud. Standing here in his office is entirely different from having him crawling up my body in my bedroom. It wasn’t difficult to tell him what I wanted back then, but it certainly is right now.
And with Ben listening.
“That you were going to bend over my desk and let me finish what we started? Or that we’d negotiate your position while you straddled my lap? Yeah, me too. This whole conversation kind of blindsided me.”
Well, there we go. I guess all three of us know now.
“I never said either of those things,” I insist, but it’s probably a waste of time. I’m not even sure I care what Ben thinks, and if he’s going to judge me, then he can take a flying jump.
Dax shoves himself into the leather and rolls his head back with his eyes closed. “No, you’re right, you didn’t.”
“But I might have deliberately let you think them. I shouldn’t have.” It’s as close to an apology as I can give.
“Why not?” His head lolls to the side. He opens his eyes and stares hard at my face. I can feel the tension radiating from him. The expectation. “Are you saying sorry for teasing me or are you saying sorry for leading me on when you’re not—”
This time he can’t finish the sentence. I can hear what he doesn’t say though.When you’re not interested in me. When you’re not going to pursue this.
God, I don’t want to do this. But I will, for all our sakes.
“You’re right,” I admit, trying to soften the lie.
“About what, exactly?”
“That I’m exhausted and I’m looking for the next big thing to help me escape…” I wave my arm through the air gesturing to the room, the compound, the situation. “...all of this.”
“And I’m the escape?” he nods like it makes sense.
“It’s unhealthy of me…” I explain, but he cuts across me.
“You’re saying the other night was a mistake?”
I have to laugh at that. The sound is bitter, much like the taint his actions left on what should have been a sweet memory for us both. “Wasn’t it? You even apologised before running away. People only apologise for mistakes.”
His eyes flare wide in panic. “You know that wasn’t…I thought we were good now?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Like I said, escape.” The words taste like acid on my tongue. “I’m beginning to see I can be self-destructive,” I offer, trying to take the blame upon myself.
“Self-destructive…” Dax nods solemnly. “I fucked up. I knew it, but I thought you’d forgiven me…the lace gave me hope…” he mumbles then shakes his head. “But I screwed up. I always screw up. I get it. I appreciate you trying to carry the weight of it, but you don’t have to be sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He swallows thickly.
I feel sick.
He straightens his shoulder and looks me in the eye. The Dax I know is gone and, in his place, sits the businessman. Like this office, it is all a front. A shield Dax uses to protect himself.
“I’ll figure something out for you, Jules. I’ll find a way to give you your hope back.”
He sounds so sad. What have I done?
“I…” I don’t even have words to change this. I’m not sure if I should, but Dax doesn’t want to hear me out, regardless.
“It’s okay. You can head out now. I’ll be out this evening, so I’d appreciate it if you stayed within the safety of the apartment for the rest of the day. You have free run of it. Sylvie’s staying at the hospital with Tom tonight.”
“Dax…” He doesn’t look up from his desk. His gaze has unfocussed and he’s zoned out of the conversation, whether he’s thinking too hard or deliberately encouraging me to leave, I don’t know.
I exit through the back door into the boardroom and try to avoid searching the darkness for Ben as I rush back to the apartment. The guards slip me in through their monitor-lined station and around to the door that opens into the apartment on the other side of the stairs. I can only assume Dax gave them permission. As soon as I’m inside, I dash to my room and lock myself in the bathroom.
