10
Nathaniel
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
I fucked up.
So big this time. I crossed the line. What was I thinking? The revulsion in her features plays over and over in my head. It’s a tearing in my chest, a shame and sadness like nothing I’ve ever felt. How could I have such big feelings for her this soon? Nothing about this makes sense. It was the alcohol. It was the good energy surrounding the night. It’s the countless late nights and early mornings. I’m exhausted and weak. My head is messed up, that’s all.
I have one job. I have to keep this contract alive. I have to do that for every single member of my team who have killed themselves for my silly ideas. For those who believe in me and the good I want to accomplish.
One almost-kiss and I could have thrown it all away. I pace with restless energy around the office. I abhor physical violence but suddenly have the desire to punch something. Instead, I force myself to breathe deep until the rush passes. What had I been thinking?
But I know.
I was thinking of how beautiful Julia looked tonight. How her skin glowed—more than that; it almost sparkled. How she looked up at me through long lashes like she was thinking dark thoughts. How her lips were so damn sexy and full they just long to be licked and sucked on.
“Fuck,” I groan.
She’s going to quit or report me and I have nobody else to blame but myself. I slam into my chair, elbows on my knees, blowing out breaths for sanity. I scrub my hands through my hair and press my fingertips to my temples.
I’ll give her a minute and then I’ll go apologize. I could claim I didn’t do anything but I’m not a coward. I will own my actions. I won’t diminish her reactions or make it seem like this is her fault. I won’t lie to her about anything. I’ll explain that I crossed a line and that she can do whatever will make her most comfortable.
I need to call Lincoln. He’ll tell me what to do. Not like I can talk to Jared about this. Is it sad that one of my best friends is a sixteen-year-old boy? But the kid is freakishly wise for his age. I reach for the desk phone when my hand knocks my mouse, waking up my computer.
My heart drops. “Thirty-seven new emails? I’ve only been gone an hour or two—”
My inbox is filled with ALERT messages I set up to notify me if a test fails.
“Oh no.”
I read the error messages filled with lines of code, one after the other. I’m good at code but not as good as Jared. I’m not exactly sure what I’m seeing. I add the fail times to the dry-erase board behind me. The failures are inexplicable. There is no rhyme or reason to the pattern. We’ve tracked weather patterns, solar flares, earthquakes in other continents. There is no reason that we can find for these failures.
“Shit,” I say for the hundredth time this hour.
My helpless inadequacy burns to frustration. I ball my fists and press them to my temples as the emotions rampage through my body. I stand to pace my office. No need to rage. I am better than that. I am not a man who resorts to violence when he feels weak. But I hate this sense of helplessness. I hate that I have no idea what’s happening.
Just calm down. Just breathe.
I try to remind myself that I am not a failure. Yet his voice is the one that echoes around my head.
You can’t do anything right. You’re pathetic.
What if I’ve messed up? What If I can’t do this? What if I let down not only myself, but a team of people who truly believed in me?
“Nathaniel?”
I glance up to see Julia at the door. Her arms are wrapped tight around her middle. Her eyes are creased with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly.
I want to tell her yes. I want to be strong for her like I am for everyone else. I want her to count on me for strength and assurance.
But … I’m so fucking tired. And she’s so soft and concerned and lovely and …
“No,” I croak out. I shake my head and hide my face in my hand, head lowered.
“What is it?” Her voice is as scared as I feel.
