Page 58 of Read My Lips

“Yeah, and?”

Simon let out an exasperated sigh, taking my hand exceptionally carefully.

“And we have to work together. Do you realise how much I need you for that?”

The defeated, worn out scrunch of his nose underlined how much of a romantic declaration it wasn’t. He didn’t do them. No danger of my beating heart stilling. How bloody inconvenient I wasn’t totally disposable.

I gritted my teeth. “I do actually.”

But he wasn’t listening. Simon Azie thought he knew it all. His Serious Face locked in, and he carried right on talking like I hadn’t said a thing.

“Which is why we specifically talked about this.”

“Hang on, did we?”

“We agreed it wasn’t going to mean anything.” The muscle in his jaw rippled. “I can’t do my job without you. Never mind navigating this catastrophe.”

“Who said you needed to?” I tried to touch his arm, but he drew back. The gap of air was gutting.

Panic flared in his eyes. But I’d never seen him worry about anything. Why was this setting him off?

“Before you, it was a rotating door of barely qualified idiots. I cannot go back to working like that.”

“I know.” I got it; I did. Companies hired anyone with a Level One BSL certificate if you gave them half a chance.

“Do you?” He shook his head. “You changed everything. If you have feelings…” His clear dislike of the word drummed into my chest. No denying he’d really understood me now. Simon grimaced. “God, I should never have put this on the table. I’m such a shit. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, you’re clearly⁠—”

“Hang on a minute!” Somehow I forced a laugh out of my throat. “Calm down. I was thinking about the coffee. You’re not that magic in the sack, mate.”

I couldn’t look at him. My sinuses were burning. It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. “Honestly.” I was such a liar. “We had a good time, it doesn’t mean anything else. I know that.”

Through the curtains, the sun shone. Blue sky. White puffy clouds. But I felt cold. Freak-out o’clock because his reliable translation tool might feel taken for granted and walk? Reality check, right there. Anyone with self-respect would leg it.

“You do?” Confusion hardened Simon’s face. Fuck, he hadn’t expected me to say that. “So, you’re not going to hand in your notice because you feel taken advantage of?”

This was why I should have quit years ago and found another client. Why I should have walked away the minute I started waking up thinking about him. I was supposed to feel taken advantage of, not like I’d won the bloody lottery.

“Jesus, Simon.” I pulled my boxers on, refusing to look at him in case he read the disappointment from me.

“Please don’t hand in your notice.” Genuine concern rounded his eyes, and my gut twisted.

“I’m not going to hand in anything!” I wanted to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere as long as he wanted me. But he wouldn’t like that at all, would he? That’d be far too complicated. “You’re not the only person in the universe who can screw around for fun, you know.”

Simon eyeballed me for a long moment. With a tight nod, he stepped back towards the door. “Glad to hear it.”

But he paused, one hand on the door frame, frowning down at the carpet. When he looked up again, his measured smile was back in place.

“Shower’s down the hall. I’ll use the other one. See you downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Great.” If this was what he wanted, why didn’t he look happy?

“Excellent.”

No, it bloody wasn’t. But he didn’t owe me feelings because I had them. He’d told me exactly how this was going to be. I didn’t get to be disappointed now.

Time to wake up, Ben Cooper. Me and Simon Azie were never, ever happening for real.

Simon waved me into the breakfast room from the other side of a round table made of a warm golden wood I could definitively say was not knotty pine.