Page 43 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“Awww. That sounds perfect.”

“It was, until I told him we couldn’t do it again.”

“What?!” she practically screams at me.

Her body reacts without her realizing it, tightening her fingers on my hair and slightly pulling it.

“Ouch!”

I sit up and rub the spot on my scalp that stings.

“Sorry. But what the fuck, Willow? Why can’t you go out again?”

“Because he’s the son of my soon-to-be boss. He’s also a partner at the firm and could very likely be my boss one day, too.”

“I don’t see the issue here. Is there a ‘no fucking your coworkers’ clause in your job contract?”

She’s glaring at me with that disappointed look that I hate.

“I don’t know. I have my second interview on Tuesday…with him.”

“Oh fuck,” she says as she sits back down fully and relaxes. “So what did he say?”

“I didn’t really give him a chance to respond, other than him saying, ‘fuck what that old windbag thinks.’ I don’t think he likes his father very much. The tension around them was thick this afternoon.”

“So what are you going to do about Tuesday?” she asks after a few moments of silence.

“I don’t know. I want this job so badly, Jenna. I’ve wanted it since moving back to Michigan. Anderson’s was always the endgame for me. I knew if I got in, I’d retire from there.”

“So do it. Go to the interview on Tuesday. Be the best fucking candidate for the job and take it. Then once the old windbag dies, maybe you two can…”

“Jenna, it’s not going to happen.”

“The job or Noah?”

“Noah. Fuck, maybe the job too?”

My stomach feels like I’m being stabbed repeatedly. I flop onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I can feel the pressure from tears forming behind my eyes. I hate how easy things were with him. I’ve never had a better time on a date. I’ve never felt more seen than I was by him. I’ve never felt more understood. Fucking hell! Why does the thing I want have to be what I can’t have?

“I’m sorry, babe.”

She lies next to me, placing the side of her head against my own.

“It’s okay. We don’t always get what we want.”

No matter how badly we want it.

CHAPTER 22

NOAH

“Fuck!” I scream as I tear down the highway. It’s nearly one.

I glance at my phone on the passenger seat. It hasn’t lit up. It hasn’t vibrated. Not a fucking call or text. Nothing.

“God fucking dammit! Why? Why? Why!?” I punch the steering wheel with each annunciation of the word.

Everything was going perfectly. We had an amazing dinner. We played some fun games. That fucking kiss was addicting. Where did it go wrong?