Page 79 of Show Me

My pulse stumbles. “What about him?”

“He stayed. What does that mean? Is there something going on between the two of you that you haven’t shared?”

“He left.” The words are out before I can stop them.

They exchange a look, and the silence between us says enough.

Emily’s voice softens. “He left you sleeping?”

“Yes. Nothing happened.” I glance down at the condensation sliding down my glass. “He stayed because he had to.”

“Or because he wanted to,” Bella says. “And if that’s true, you need to think about what you want too, because this could change everything for you.”

I shake my head. “It won’t.” He flirts with every woman alive, except me. “He’s not the kind that makes commitments.”

“Neither do you,” she shoots back.

That pulls a laugh out of me before I can stop it. She’s not wrong. I don’t do commitments, but that’s only because there’s only been one man for me and choosing wrong would be worse than wishing I was with him and never getting the chance.

Around us, someone cheers. Music swells. Life keeps moving like nothing’s changed, and I use that motion to stand.

“I’m going to the restroom.” I slide out of the booth.

Bella looks like she wants to argue but doesn’t.

The noise from the bar is muffled the farther I go down the hallway. The air smells faintly of cleaner and stale beer.

I pull out my phone and scan for messages. Then I bounce into something solid, make a strangled sound, and fall back a step. Hands grab my upper arms, holding me upright.

“Ruby.” My stomach drops as I twist and wrestle my arms free. Greg. I ran into Greg when I wasn’t looking. He’s too close. Too familiar.

“What’re you doing here?”

He steps toward me. “I could ask you the same.”

My feet shift back again without thinking.

He closes the distance just enough to notice. Not quite touching. Eyes roaming over me, slowly, taking everything in at once. “You left.”

“I told you I was leaving.”

“You walked out.”

“I wasn’t comfortable–”

“With him?” he cuts in.

“With the job.”

His hand braces against the wall beside my shoulder. Not trapping. Not exactly. “You had something good.” His voice is lower, and I have to strain to hear him over the bar. “Consistent. Reliable.”

My pulse starts to climb. “I made a choice.”

“You’re not seeing it clearly.”

“I see it fine.”

His gaze drifts over my face like he’s trying to figure something out. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, and I’m not going to stand by if this turns ugly.”