Page 37 of Do It With Me

I waved for her to precede me and we walked down the hall in silence. My chest felt tight, my thoughts racing ahead to every possible version of this conversation. Most of them were bad.

Once we were inside the small office I’d been assigned here, I closed the door behind her, the soft click sounding louder in the deafening silence than it should have. My insides contracted at the sound and immediately I felt the need to explain.

“I only locked it so I can be sure no one will barge in.”

“Okay.” She stood near the chair opposite my desk but didn’t sit.

I remained at the door for a moment, not wanting her to feel crowded, before I realized that where I was standing now might make her feel trapped. Fuck, I don’t want that either.

Giving her a wide berth, I walked around my desk and slid my hands into my pockets. I didn’t sit either.

“Are you okay?” I asked finally. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong or made you uncomfortable. I need you to tell me if things went too far.”

“No, it’s not that.” Her eyes widened, the cool politeness in them softening a little. “Not even close.”

“Then what is it?” I asked, keeping my voice even, although my pulse was hammering. “You’re different. Distant. If I need to apologize, I⁠—”

“No.” She sighed, her shoulders sinking like the weight of the world was pressing down on them, but the word had been firm and sure. “It’s not you. I like you. More than I probably should. I just, uh, I can’t handle complicated right now.”

I took a cautious step closer. “Complicated how? I wasn’t aware that anything about us was complicated. Are you worried about me having to grade you?”

She shook her head. “It’s just life stuff. As in, my life is a mess and I don’t want to drag anyone into it.”

“What if you don’t have to drag me into it? What if I’m willing to simply walk into it beside you?”

Even as I asked the question, I honestly didn’t know if I was willing to walk into whatever mess existed in her life. After everything I’d been through with Shannon, I’d sworn I would never get romantically involved again, but I was halfway out of my mind with this woman, and as long as she didn’t feel like I’d pressured her into anything, I was curious to see what it was like, trying to be with her.

At the same time, however, I didn’t know if that was even something I was capable of anymore. Those green eyes locked on mine, and for just a second, it seemed like she might be considering it, but finally, she shot me a small smile that seemed profoundly sad and shook her head again.

“I wish I could take you up on that, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. I’ve got a lot going on and I need to focus on getting my shit together before I start anything with anyone.”

There it was, the wall she was hiding behind that would keep her just out of my reach. I hated that I wanted to climb it anyway, but I nodded slowly nonetheless. I’d been there. Hell, I was there right now, not wanting to get involved when I wasn’t sure how much I would be able to give.

“Okay,” I said finally because, as much as I hated it, I knew what I had to do. “I respect that.”

She gave me a faint, grateful smile, but again, it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you. Was that, uh, was that it? Or is there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“No, that was it.” As she turned to leave, however, an ache settled low in my chest and the words slipped out before I could stop them. “I can help, you know. Whatever it is, I’ve got resources, contacts.”

“No, I’ll handle it myself, but thank you,” she said firmly, but then her voice softened a little. “The money from the date will already help a lot.”

That stung more than I wanted it to, the realization that to her, that night—the night I’d come to think of as our night—had had a price tag attached. She genuinely had only wanted the money.

My eyes wanted to slam shut, and my jaw desperately wanted to grind, but I was the one who’d offered the money in the first place. I’d made it a business proposal. From the very beginning, she’d said no to a date. I had no right to be so surprised about it now, so I swallowed hard and held her gaze.

“Did you at least have a good time?” I asked, not particularly used to feeling so fucking bitter after a date.

Her eyes flicked up to mine, and for a heartbeat, the tension between us crackled again. “You know I did. It’s just, as cliché as it sounds, it’s not you. It’s me.”

She gave me a tiny, tight nod, and then she was gone. The door clicked shut behind her and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

For a much longer moment than I’d ever admit to, I just stood there, staring at the empty spot where she’d been and wondering how the hell we’d gone from that peaceful, carefree morning after, from laughing and eating together, to this. It made absolutely zero sense to me.

Not that it mattered.

She’d been perfectly clear that there wouldn’t be another date. Whatever had happened, regardless of whether I understood it, had been enough for her to walk away. As the realization dawned, I crossed to the small bar cart in the corner and poured myself two fingers of scotch, downing the first before I’d even sat down.

The smooth burn of the liquid as it slid down my throat helped but only a little. Maybe it was just that I wasn’t used to rejection, but it was a god-awful feeling, whatever it was.

Across my desk, my computer chimed with a reminder and I looked up to see the alert displayed on my screen. The big board meeting was coming up soon. Jimmy had flooded every device and calendar I owned with these reminders, but the redevelopment proposal was what I’d been living and breathing for months.

Legacy. Progress. Focus on that, Holden.

It shouldn’t have been any effort at all, to redirect my thoughts to one thing that had been dominating them for so long. Jimmy and I had been fine-tuning this proposal to within an inch of its life. We’d been hounding the architects for updates to the plans and our lawyers for reports on their progress.

At this point, I should’ve been able to pitch the board in my sleep. They were my goddamn board and I knew they trusted me, but after I refilled my glass and forced my attention to the notes I pulled up on my screen, I couldn’t even really remember what I was supposed to have been looking at.

This is ridiculous.

Blinking hard, I forced myself to shove away the images of her and to focus on what was in front of me. Progress. Legacy. She’s focusing on her life, Holden. She’s getting her shit together. Maybe it’s time that you do the same fucking thing.