Page 88 of Forced Proximity

‘So, do you think it’s possible that you didn’t, in fact, read into the situation, that she did have real feelings for you, but she sacrificed her wants to keep you safe?’ Zane’s eyebrows crease. ‘Is she the type of person to sacrifice her happiness for your safety?’

The words drop like a cinderblock. ‘Absolutely.’

Is that what happened? Oh God … what have I done? How did I fuck this up, again? Lexi is never going to forgive me. The words I used … you’re staff, fucking relief …

My stomach coils into a knot. ‘What the hell am I going to do?’

Zane pauses at the door and gives me a gentle smile.

‘I’d start by apologizing.’

Chapter 40

Lexi

I check my watch. Yep, only two minutes have passed since the last time I checked. Without conversation, movie nights and dinner, time moves at the speed of a glacier. I’m bored. Tired. Heartbroken. I have exactly two weeks left on my contract, and I refuse to stay one moment longer.

I stretch into a downward dog yoga position when Zane’s signature airy footsteps approach from the left.

‘Hey lady, I’m gonna head out for the night.’ They strap their crossbody over their shoulder. ‘You know how rad I think you are, right?’

I lift from the position and grin. ‘Rad?’

‘I’m single-handedly going to bring that phrase back if it kills me.’ They reach out and squeeze my shoulder. ‘Chat soon, okay?’

‘Sounds good.’ I hold the door for them, thankful for the thirty seconds of human interaction.

I continue working in yoga moves, as much as one can with combat boots, a handgun strapped to my side and cargo pants. Pops fly up my back and my hamstrings release, but nothing’s relieving this ache that’s buried so deep in my soul it’s embedded into my DNA. I lean into the warrior pose when Justin clears his throat from a distance.

‘Lexi?’ His tentative voice travels from the top of the stairs.

Lexi, huh? No Doc? No more silent treatment? I spring up and level myself. I don’t want to talk to him. But I am his employee, after all. I exhale a throaty breath and step out of the den. ‘What?’

He’s in sweatpants, socks and a white tank. And most days, I probably would’ve drooled. But today, I can’t even look at him.

‘Why are you in the den?’ he asks.

Such a simple question that shoots fire through me. ‘Because staff belong in the den. As you so clearly pointed out.’

The color drains from his face. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.’ He takes a step toward me but stops.

I don’t want to hear it. From now until I leave this job for good, I don’t want to hear another word from him. ‘Do you feel threatened or have an emergency?’ I cross my arms and hold his gaze. ‘If not, I’d prefer to return to my post.’

He runs his palms down his face. ‘Can we please talk?’

Talking sounds terrible. Everything about this is so unfair. But he said there was something off, he said he felt relief, he said I was … I don’t want to have this conversation. But my curiosity blocks me from telling him no. ‘You get one minute.’

He tugs at the bottom of his tank. ‘I’m so fucking sorry for what I said to you.’

My eyes narrow. Did he really come down here to say he was sorry for hurting my feelings? This is stupid. We aren’t kids. ‘It’s not the first time someone tried to make me feel like shit.’ I hold my glare. ‘It didn’t work in the past, but you succeeded. Congratulations.’

‘Don’t do that,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘You know that’s not me—’

‘I thought it wasn’t you.’

He stretches his hands toward me but then drops them to his side. ‘Please, hear me out. I, ugh, Jesus, this is hard.’ A moment, then another, passes. ‘I asked you the other night if there was a future with us, and you said no, right?’

Yeah, but then he said he was relieved when I said no. So, what does it matter?