Page 25 of One Little Victory


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“You said that before asking me? Before you even knew who I was?” I bit off, grinding my teeth together.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t like my morals always pointed north since I told her we might have to fake our way through a dinner with my parents, but it hadn’t been my first instinct.

“Not on purpose. It slipped out. If you hadn’t returned my bracelet, I’d eaten crow and figured something out. The truth is, Simon…” She paused, looked at the floor, then back out the window—pretty much anywhere but me. “The truth is, I’m not a great person. I don’t even feel like a good person right now. I’ve accepted I’m not relationship material, but at least I made up for it by kicking ass with my job.”

I didn’t think she was talking to me anymore, more like thinking out loud while I drove. The last thing I wanted was to interrupt and ask about food, so I kept my mouth shut and let her talk, happy to listen, even if she was shaking her head, sounding miserable. There was too much space between us, so I reached over and put two fingers on her leg. When she didn’t recoil, I laid my hand on her thigh, silently letting her know I was here.

“But I’m only great at my job for selfish, stupid, wrong reasons. Reasons I’m officially done harping on because I have to freaking change.” She raised one hand, then lowered it and grasped mine like a lifeline, and damn if it didn’t feel good. “It starts with this house, this chance. It starts with you, Simon.”

Oh fuck. She’s talking to me, after all.

“With me?”I said, swallowing harshly.

“Yeah. You don’t deserve to get dragged down with that article. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you fix this and your reputation.”

She still hadn’t taken her eyes from the window, but her hand was warm and reassuring, lulling me into a false sense of security or something close to it. If I was this much of a lunatic after forty-eight hours, the next few weeks would put me in the loony bin.

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