Page 58 of Yours to Keep

She froze with her dress halfway on, her back to me. Slowly, she turned her head to look at me again, her eyes flashing. “After how you’ve acted, what exactly did you expect?”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s exactly what you meant,” she countered, finally standing to pull her dress all the way on. She wasn’t even looking at me anymore, too busy covering herself back up while trying to make sure I saw as little as possible. “You’re offended. Clearly, your ego is bruised, but that doesn’t change reality and the reality is that if people find out I’m sleeping with you, I become the enemy too.”

“No one has to know,” I said, because I had to say something that would stop this spiral we seemed to have gotten sucked into. “This doesn’t have to be a thing, Bree.”

She shook her head, a sad little smile tugging at her mouth when she glanced at me again. “That’s what you say now, but how long will we be able to hide it? They’ll find out, Sullivan. They always do.”

“That’s paranoia speaking.”

“It’s experience,” she retorted without skipping a beat. “You don’t get to be my boss during the day and my lover at night.”

The word lover snapped between us like a live wire. My spine shot straight, irritation flaring like fire in my veins. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it sound like I’m using you.”

She sighed, finally turning to look at me again once her dress was on. At least there was no accusation in her eyes, but her jaw was set with determination, letting me know that she wasn’t letting this go. “That’s not what I said, Sullivan.”

“You might not have said it, but you sure as hell implied it.”

“What I implied is that there’s a power imbalance,” she said calmly, holding my gaze with something like resignation flicking across her expression. “You can’t deny that’s true. There is a massive power imbalance between us at work. You’re the big boss and I’m a very newly appointed nurse practitioner. If it were to get out that we’re sleeping together, it wouldn’t look good on either one of us.”

I hated that she was right. I knew full well what it would look like. My stock price had already taken a hit when that video of us arguing about cake had gone viral. A full-blown scandal involving me being in a physical relationship with the very woman who’d sparked the Great Cake Debate would be bad.

“I don’t sleep with employees,” I said, looking her right in the eyes. “Ever.”

Both of her eyebrows lifted as she gestured toward the bed. “Don’t you? Because the current evidence suggests otherwise.”

“I couldn’t help myself with you,” I admitted quietly, the truth coming out raw, ugly, and exposed, but that also didn’t make it any less true.

Reality really is a bitch sometimes.

I waited for her to mock me for it, to deflect, or to turn it into a joke, but she didn’t. For a second, her expression even softened a little bit. It was just a crack in the mask, but it was enough to let hope sneak in. Enough to make me think that fully shooting my shot might not be as pointless as I’d thought a minute ago.

“I don’t want this to mean nothing,” I said, deciding to keep riding the honestly train even though it made me feel naked in a way I wasn’t used to and didn’t like much. “Last night wasn’t nothing to me and I don’t want to pretend that it was.”

She swallowed and looked away, drawing in a deep breath as her eyes fluttered closed. That hope took root. I knew this would be complicated—for both of us—but I was willing to risk it for her.

Just when I started thinking that she’d at least consider doing the same, that she might feel the same way, she looked back at me and the warmth was gone, replaced by firm resolve. “This can’t happen again, Sullivan. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“Bree, come on.”

She opened the door, but she didn’t storm out right away. Those blue eyes bored into mine across the distance, and the tiniest smile spread across her lips. “This was a mistake, Sullivan. A really, really good one, but still a mistake.”

A moment later, she was gone. The door clicked shut behind her. The quiet sound of the lock snicking automatically back into place echoed with finality.

For another long moment, I just sat there, staring at the empty space she’d occupied with my muscles bracing for movement.

I didn’t want to retreat. What I wanted was to chase after her, to claim her, and to prove to her that this wasn’t about control, convenience, or ego. I wanted her to know that when I looked at her, I didn’t see an employee or a problem to manage.

I saw a woman who challenged me and who made me laugh. A woman who’d made my sister feel safe in the worst moment of her life and who’d gotten me through a day that should’ve ended with me being arrested for murder without any bloodshed at all.

As I tried to imagine doing what she’d asked and letting her go, my jaw clenched so hard, my teeth started aching. Like it or not, Bree Bennett was under my skin and I was perfectly happy to let her stay there.

Eventually, I forced myself to move, but I didn’t go after her. Moving on autopilot like the soulless robot she’d once accused me of being, I showered, shaved, and dressed, then packed my stuff and went to check on my sister. She had given me a key to her room the day before.

Liana was still asleep, sprawled diagonally across the bed with her mascara smudged and a champagne bottle abandoned on the nightstand. Despite the devastation she’d dealt with yesterday, she looked lighter than she had in weeks, her brow smooth and her breathing even.

After I tucked a blanket around her, I stood there for a few beats longer than necessary, trying to figure out what I could do or plan to make sure she really would be okay. But even then, my mind wasn’t really with her.