I refuse to play this game with him. Here I was thinking he was breaking the rules and about to be disqualified—putting an end to this whole fiasco—and instead I come to find out he bought his pet fish a companion so he doesn’t get lonely. Which might be the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
I cross my arms over my chest and snap back, “So what?”
He mirrors my pose and pierces me with a gaze that sees a bit too much. “Jeez, Parker, are you seriously that upset that I didn’t kill my fish?”
“Yes.” I realize how evil that makes me sound and try to school my face into something less hostile. “I mean, no.” Tugging on the end of my ponytail, I shift my eyes away from his. “I guess I just thought that if you couldn’t complete the task, then we could call off this whole thing. It would be over.”
He scoots closer to me, so our knees are pressed together. His voice softens and it suddenly feels like we’re theonly two people in the room. “Why do you want the competition to be over?”
“So I can win and get the column, of course.” I push the words out in a rush before any other answer can make its way from my brain to my mouth.
He grasps my chin in his hand, turning my head so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Is that the only reason?”
And I know what he’s really asking. Just like he knows what I’m really saying. If we called off the competition right now, there would be nothing left standing between us. Nothing except the past and the walls we’ve each built. Walls we’re slowly knocking down.
But as much as I want to give him an honest answer, I know I can’t. Not yet.
“Yes, that’s the only reason.” I gently remove myself from his hold. “I might complain about it, but I really am learning a lot about myself as I go through these assignments, Seth. Like at speed dating.”
His shoulders hunch over a little, like that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “And what did you learn?”
“That I shouldn’t accept the attention of a man I’m not interested in just because I want attention.” The declaration comes out much more succinct and confident than I would’ve anticipated given the whirlpool of emotions swirling around in my chest. But it’s true.
“Oh.” Seth straightens a little, offering me a sad smile. It crinkles his eyes just a tad. “I think that’s probably an important lesson.”
“And that sometimes it’s about meeting the right personat the right time. Something I haven’t managed to do just yet.” It’s a bit of a dig, but it’s also a truth I think we both need to accept.
Seth’s smile fades, only to be replaced half a second later with one of his cocky grins. “Right. Well, I’ll let you get back to work.”
And he saunters off without another word or a backward glance.
And I’m left to wonder why that stings, just a little.
19
God, I need therapy.
—Lana Parker, in conversation with her friends, more than once
“How are things going with the article series?” Dr. Lawson asks almost the second I sink onto her couch for my latest session. “Are you still feeling comfortable with the competition element? How have the assignments been?”
I want to laugh, but I’m afraid if I do it will quickly turn into tears. “I’m not really sure how to answer that.”
“How about honestly?”
I sigh, not even dithering before I pick up the throw pillow and hold it tight to my chest. “I guess the good news is that the series seems to be popular with readers. Clicks are up, which means ad dollars are up. Natasha is happy.”
Dr. Lawson’s ever-present pen is poised on her notebook. “Is that an important goal for you during this? That Natasha be happy?”
“She’s my boss, so yes, I’d like her to be happy with thework I’m doing.” It’s more than that, and we both know it, but she doesn’t push the issue for now.
“And do you feel like you’ve had some worthwhile experiences?”
I nod, telling her all about the boxing class and speed dating, leaving out the conversation with Seth. I even mention the idea I’ve had of starting to take my blog more seriously. “And Natasha signed us up for a volunteering event that I think will be good for me.”
“Natasha set it up for you?”
I nod, playing with the tassels on the corners of the pillow. “It’s with some kids who want to be writers. Someone probably reached out to her to see if she had anyone who was interested.”
