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Eighteen
No time like the present.
Royce didn’t know if flowers were the right accompaniment for what he’d come to say, but he couldn’t show up empty-handed for this conversation. He was glad Bran mentioned Taylor’s lily allergy. Royce had been sure not to include a single one of them in the bouquet.
His eyes were grainy, his stomach upset—in part due to the decision he felt forced to make, and in part due to the coffee he’d drunk to wake up. He hadn’t slept well last night. He’d been awake turning over his and Taylor’s relationship. CEO and ThomKnox. Brannon’s advice. Gia, and even Jayson Cooper. Gia and Coop had been so in love they’d stunk with it. So in love they made everyone around them roll their eyes. Then they were over.
In a blink.
If a couple like Gia and Jayson could implode when they had true love on their side, what chance did Royce and Taylor have? If he didn’t end things with her now—if they continued to blend their individual dreams and it didn’t work out—Taylor would grow to resent him. Conversations about family or work would be riddled with landmines. They’d argue. Say things they didn’t mean. They’d end in a nuclear-bomb-worthy plume of smoke. He didn’t want that.
He wanted her to have a perfect life—a future that she chose, not one that was a compromise. He cared about her—she was practically family—and if there was a chance for her to escape unscathed, he would do what had to be done... While they could still blame proximity and timing on their attraction.
If she was in love at all, it was with the idea of him. Not him. He knew that. But he also appreciated how the lines could blur when sexual attraction was at its peak. Those moments after an orgasm had thrummed through his body like a power line, and he’d definitely felt something intense.
The heart was a tricky mistress, though. He couldn’t allow emotion to cloud the surmountable tasks before him. The product launch. CEO. His retiring father. His brother and his sister depended on him. ThomKnox as a whole, including Taylor, depended on him. He didn’t take that lightly.
He knew numbers and the math didn’t work out when he added Taylor and him together. He couldn’t nurture both his job and his personal life. Not right now. Maybe in ten years, but how could he ask her to table what she wanted for a decade?
A family. A dog. And, he guessed, a husband who came home before ten o’clock at night after a grueling day at the office.
Obviously, he could provide financial stability and a warm bed—they sure as hell had a good time together—but juggling family responsibilities? His own father was loving, but hadn’t often been present. He’d brought Royce to work with him, and then Bran. And then Gia. One might argue they were a part of this company because ThomKnox was where their family congregated. Other than Sunday breakfasts, Royce didn’t recall a family vacation where his father hadn’t been on the phone taking business calls.
Taylor’s father hadn’t been that way. He’d worked hard, but he’d also doted on her. Her mother had been equally enamored with her daughter and eventually left ThomKnox to be at home with her. Taylor wanted the best of both worlds—the job, the family. How had she put it? Balance.
Not his forte.
What if he never wanted a family? What if he was content to be CEO and run the company on his own? What if he was incapable of balance? He couldn’t ask Taylor to lead half of a life. She’d already lost her father, and Royce wouldn’t cost her her future family as well. He cared for her far too much—he could tell by the suffocating knot in his lungs. He cared for her more than he cared for himself, and that was why it was time to call this what it was.
An amazingly fun fling that was doomed from the start.
Flowers in hand, he swallowed down the bile pushing against the base of his throat. He’d never done anything this hard. Not ever. But he knew what he was capable of—and what he wasn’t. The perks of being a practical numbers guy, he supposed. It was high time someone was honest about where he and Taylor stood.
The least he could do was be brave enough to say the words neither of them wanted to hear.
Taylor opened her front door and her breath caught. She admired the man on her stoop, easy to do when Royce looked so damn good. It was nice to see him here on a Saturday morning instead of at the office.
Weekends were for croissants and coffee and lounging in her leggings. Royce was a tad more formal in dark jeans. His button-down shirt was cuffed at the sleeves, revealing his tanned forearms. The bow tie was a nice touch. And sexy. Which she told him with a smile.
He didn’t smile. He looked downright miserable, actually. She opened her mouth to ask him why, but he spoke before she could.
“You’re allergic to lilies.” He handed over the flower bouquet, a beautiful mix of daisies and roses interspersed with wildflowers she didn’t recognize.
“I’m not allergic. But I don’t particularly care for them.” She took a deep inhalation of the bouquet and stepped aside. “I love these. Thank you.”
His frown only deepened. “Oh.”
Clearly something was bothering him. Whatever had put that lost and lonely look in his eyes, they could handle it together. She loved him, and with loving someone came navigating the occasional bad day.
“Come in. I made sun tea.”
“No, thank you.” He didn’t meet her eyes, regarding his shoes instead. A premonition skittered across her chest on eight hairy legs. “I’m not staying long.”
“Okay.” She stepped outside to join him, because even the scant distance between them at the threshold of her apartment was too much. He hadn’t greeted her with a kiss, another change she’d noticed. That skittering hairy-legged creature climbed her spine.
“You want a family,” Royce said in that same flat tone. Her mind scrambled. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but the circles under his eyes told her it wasn’t good. “Kids. House. A dog?”
“Yes. Um. Eventually.” She crossed her arms over her chest. If he was about to break her heart, her folded arms were her only defense.
