And when we’re not sleeping together an entire state away from each other, I can’t get him out of my mind. We’re supposed to watch a movie ‘together’ this weekend. We’re sending each other a little care package of snacks, and we’vecarved out ninety minutes where we can sit in our rooms and watch the same thing on different TVs and call it a date. This long-distance shit is for the birds.
Lachlan seems to mistake my heavy sigh for frustration at my studying. “Need help?” He slides into the chair next to me. “Oh, damn.”
His eyes widen at my screen. Double shit. Artemis’s sinfully beautiful face is still on my screen because I got distracted by staring at his soulful brown eyes.
“Don’t.” Panic slams into me like a slapshot to the sternum. I’m not ashamed—I’m terrified of breaking something fragile before it’s even had a chance to become real.
Something in my tone must convey that I don’t want him to out me, to rib me, or to even whisper a goddamn fucking word about the man on my phone because he meets my eyes with the genuineness I’ve come to expect from him and simply nods. “It’s in the vault.”
Relief and disappointment collide so hard in my chest it knocks the breath out of me. I don’t want him hidden. I want him claimed. I want everything. And yet, I want nothing that will scare him away. I want everyone to know I’m with Artemis, even if some of them will be pissed he’s the enemy.
I don’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. I want to stand beside him in the goddamn daylight. But right now? He’s put baby in the corner—and I’m too into him to claw my way out.
CHAPTER 35
Artemis
Fluorescent lights hum overhead like they’re mocking me with how awake they are. I wish I could say the same. I’m running on two hours of sleep, maybe? There’s an ache crawling from my skull down to my fingertips, like my body is begging me to quit.
I’m also running on an energy drink that tastes like battery acid, and the hollow, buzzing twinge of my brain and all my major organs slowly shutting down. Engineers are arguing around me. Lawyers are emailing firestorms. My phone keeps vibrating with alerts I’m too exhausted to read.
And Scott—good, patient, no-bullshit Scott—took the day off work to sit vigil with me. And has been watching me unravel like a messy ball of yarn all morning. Every flinch, every exhale of frustration—he catalogs them all like he’s mapping a minefield I can’t see, in case he puts his foot somewhere he shouldn’t.
He finally snaps. “Artemis, sit down before you fall down. It’s two days before Christmas Eve. You know that, right?”
“I’m fine.” It comes out sharp and brittle, like an ice blade that’s one good swing from shattering. Shit. Is it reallyChristmas Eve Eve—the day before Christmas Eve—tomorrow?
Scott folds his arms. He’s clearly not buying it. Don’t blame him, roles reversed, I wouldn’t either. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Fuck if I know. “I’m working.” I tap at the folder in my hands like that proves something.
“No.” He fires back before I can get traction under my argument. “You’re drowning. And dragging the entire ridiculous merger down with you.” His words hit harder because he’s right.
“He fights hard, so you push harder. You’re both as bad as each other. You’re both going to go broke if you’re not careful. Why don’t you just tell him it’s you and figure out something more amicable than him digging his heels in?”
Both as bad as each other? The fuck I am. I pinch my eyes shut, temples throbbing. “This was supposed to be a clean merger. A straightforward acquisition. The regulators were already signing off until?—”
“Until your father walked in and salted the earth.” Scott finishes his sentence, shifting his weight in the seat next to mine as he shoves a sandwich in front of me. “I know. You’ve told me. Repeatedly. As if naming the wound helps you stop bleeding. But it’s making you bleed out even faster, Arte.”
I exhale through my nose, long and uneven. He’s one of the few people who gets away with talking to me like that. So, I take a bite of the sandwich instead of breaking his nose. My tolerance today is threadbare.
“You need support, Artemis. You can’t keep this pace and a relationship and full-time school. Something’s going to give.” Scott softens, just a fraction, because tough love is what we do, it’s what we’ve always done.
My spine snaps straight. He’s jumped face first into treacherous territory.
“Don’t. Just don’t.” I cram another bite in my mouth, chewing like the sandwich did me dirty.
“I’m not judging.” His voice is painfully calm. “But I’ve seen you turn down anything that looks like joy for years. And now you’ve finally let someone in?—”
“No.” It comes out too fast and is far too obvious. But it’s also too fucking late to deny anything. A flash of heat travels up my spine. Shit. He’s got me, and we both know it.
Scott blinks. “You can say his name, you know.”
I look away, my jaw clenched so hard I hear the grind in my ears.
“Pretending you don’t care doesn’t negate the fact this is the wrong guy at the wrong time, Artemis.” He tries again, more gently, shaking his head like he pities me. I fucking hate pity.
I shake my head right back, but he arches a brow, he still doesn’t believe me. Again, I don’t blame him. He’s been my best friend for years and knows me better than I know myself. But admitting Xavier’s important to me feels awfully like…something.
