Page 130 of On The Edge

“I told them what they should pay you. Moving costs. Temporary housing. I pushed hard for you, kid. The bonus? You’ll still get to work with Cruz every now and again. Let’s hope you don’t hate him now that this is all said and done.”

“No.” I smile as I turn to look back at Cruz. “I don’t hate him.”

“Good. Be prepared for the call. It’s coming within the next hour. They’ll want you there by the end of next week.”

The end of next week. Holy shit. That’s . . . quick. Unexpected. Overwhelming.

I’m about to get everything I’ve been working toward. Everything. Cruz looks up across the garage at me and smiles softly before looking back at one of his crew members.

So why is the euphoria suddenly . . . sadness?

“Cruz.”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up. He’s sitting on the couch, remote control in hand as he watches and then rewinds footage from the Mexico race over and over. Each overtake. Every error on the track. Each millisecond lost. His and other racers’. His need to improve with each and every race almost an obsession.

“Please. We need to talk. You can’t keep giving me the silent treatment. I don’t deserve it.”

He stops the recording again but doesn’t speak.

I step in front of the TV so that he’s forced to look at me.

His eyes meet mine. “You didn’t tell me.” His voice is void of any emotion and I’d give anything if he would scream or yell. But he doesn’t. He just sits there with his voice impassive and my heart on the line.

“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you. We were busy. I was contemplating.”

“And yet you accepted the job that starts in three days, and you didn’t have the guts to tell me.”

I move to sit on the table in front of him. This house that held such warmth is so very cold now. “I was trying to figure things out.”

He smiles but it holds no warmth. “I have the jet fueled and waiting for you at the airport to take you to your new city. Your new life. Just say the word.”

Ask me to stay, Cruz. Ask me to fucking stay.

“I love you.”

He nods. “So you said.” His words hurt more than they should. The callous nature of them just protecting the wound over his own heart.

I know that and yet it does nothing to ease the pang in the middle of my chest. “Don’t do this,” I whisper. “Don’t end us like this.”

“Like what? Face-to-face instead of running and hiding like you were planning?”

“That’s not what I was doing. I was contemplating it. I was waiting to talk to you.”

“I’m here.” He throws the remote down beside him. “Talk.”

“What do you want from me? To give up my life for you? To walk away from a dream? All for a man who can’t even look at me and tell me he loves me?” He blanches at my words. “Because you do, Cruz Navarro. You love me, but if you’re not brave enough to say it? If you’re not courageous enough to put your heart on the line and take the risk of it being hurt like I have, then you don’t get to keep me.” Tears I don’t remember shedding stream down my face as I stand up.

Say something.

Anything.

But his response is the pulse in his jaw and the clenching and unclenching of his hands.

“Love takes sacrifice from two people, Cruz. Not just one. It demands vulnerability from both of us. It requires us to be there for each other, to trust one another, even when we fear losing the other person. I know you expect me to leave you. I know that all you’ve known is for love to hurt. But that’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“I told you the jet’s ready for you.”

“And I told you I love you. I told you to ask me to stay. I told you to risk your own security for me . . . and you can’t do that.” My voice breaks and my body hurts from the fear that I know to be true—I’ve already lost him. Hell, I lost him before I had him because of his parents.