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“We can’t?Why not?”Her words are baffled.
“We just can’t.”The second time I say it isn’t any easier.What business does “can’t” have in bed with us right now?I stare at the ceiling and try to convince myself to do the right thing.“I haven’t been…”
“Haven’t been what?”
“Honest with you,” I say hoarsely.“About parts of my life.”
I should’ve fucking told her.I should’ve told her that first night at the Crimson Lounge or the day she showed up at Verdant for an interview.And I definitely should’ve told her before I slipped my hand under her skirt.If I had, maybe we’d already be past it.Maybe we’d be here anyway, and I’d be able to kiss her and touch her and love her the way my entire being is crying out to do.But she literally just told me that she’s embarrassed that I know about her crush on Santa, that she’s worried about me laughing about it behind her back.And if I confess now, she’s going to think I’m a complete sociopath who’s been toying with her for weeks instead of an idiot who didn’t realize until too late that he should’ve shared a relatively small secret before it got bigger and more impossible with every passing day.
But I didn’t tell her, which means I don’t deserve her.Not her soft eyes or her eager mouth or a single inch of the luscious body that I’m dying to take my time exploring in the sunlight.When I risk a glance at her, I feel even worse.She’s sitting upright, confusion replacing arousal on her face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”She crosses her arms over her chest.“Are motivational pep talks your kink or something?”
I laugh, but it’s brief and then it’s gone.“I guess so.When it comes to you, anyway.”
“I cannot believe my nipples are hard and my panties are wet and I have to hype up the guy who just turned me down for sex,” she mutters before grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her.“Okay, here goes.You’re incredible.I want this.”
And I want to believe her.So, so badly.But she doesn’t have all the facts.
“You don’t really know me.”I almost choke on the bitterness of my tone.
“I think I know you well enough.”She tilts her head and lets her dress fall open again, her gingerbread hair sliding over a bare shoulder.The come-on in her voice is hot as fuck, but I absolutely cannot keep touching her if I don’t come clean about everything.Lying to her, not telling her who was really with her in that VIP room, letting her spill her fantasies about Luke to me and about me to Luke.Pissed won’t cover it.I imagine her betrayal, her tears, her hurt, and it shreds something in my chest.There’s no way to navigate this that doesn’t cause her some kind of damage.
Unlesss.She’s leaving town in two weeks.If I stop us right now and we go back to being work friends only, I can maybe, possibly justify not telling her.In that scenario, she’ll leave Beaucoeur and forget all about her short-time buddy Hollis and her short-lived infatuation with Santa Luke.No harm done.
Well.Harm to me once she’s gone from my life.But that’s the price I’m paying for this clusterfuck.
Okay.I can do this.I have to do this.
“You’re leaving,” I say slowly.“And I think it’s best that we just stay friends for the rest of your time here.If we move forward with this, I’d have to tell you things that would make you hate me, and I don’t”—I have to swallow before I can get the rest out—“I don’t know if I could live with that.”
The words hang in the air.
“What could you possibly say to make me hate you?”She sounds incredulous.“Whatever stupid things you did or used to do or whatever it is that makes you think you’re a bad guy, it’s not who you are now.I don’t have toknowyou to know that.”
Her faith in me is a punch in the gut.I slide to the side of the bed and drop my head into my hands, willing my cock back down, wishing for a time machine, wondering about every decision in my fucking life that led to this moment where I’m burning up for the woman of my dreams but I can’t have her because she’s accidentally tangled up in my mess.
I can’t be with her without being honest.And I can’t be honest with her without changing her opinion of me.She’s going to think I’m a user, a manipulator.Someone cruel who enjoyed hiding the truth from her.The last thing I want to do is make her feel like that.And yeah, I’m also selfish enough that I don’t want her thinking those things about me.Since I met her, all I’ve wanted is for her to like me.Maybe even to love me.But that’s off the table now because of the hole I dug for myself.I’ll replace that Canadian motherfucker as the villain in her story, and she doesn’t deserve another villain.She doesn’t deserve any of the shit that telling her would bring.
The silence stretches so long that Liv clearly decides she’s had enough.She stands, movements jerky as she reties her belt and walks to the other side of the bed to collect her phone.
“I don’t know what your deal is,” she says stiffly.“Maybe you’re actually with one of the girls from Chicago, or maybe you really meant it that you don’t date people at work.Maybe I really am too much like Darby to ever be your type.But I clearly misunderstood things, and I apologize for that.”
A howl builds in my chest, but there’s nothing I can say to stop her other than the truth.I’m just a guy who didn’t realize until too late that he was keeping a huge secret from someone he was falling for, and it’s gotten too big to share without it blowing back on both of us.
I watch helplessly as her face crumples when I don’t contradict any of the untrue things she said, and I fumble for a way to make things okay again.To keep her in my life for as long as she’s around.
“Can we just”—my voice cracks—“can we go back to how we were?Before.Just put this behind us.Like you did with Canada, right?Let’s pretend this didn’t happen and go back to being friends.Can we do that?”Because unlike a lover or a boyfriend, a friend you won’t see again at the end of the month can keep his secrets without it being a betrayal.
Her lower lip trembles for a horrifying second before she straightens her spine and schools her face.
“Sure.”The word emerges clipped.“We’ll just go back to how things were.And don’t worry,Hollis,” she says, her voice acid.“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“My secret.”I laugh without a trace of humor and listen to her footsteps moving down the hall.By the time I find the strength to follow her, she has her shoes and coat on, and her hand is on the doorknob.
“Liv, I—” My jaw works as I struggle to come up with the perfect words to fix what I fucked up.She turns to me expectantly, and for a terrifying second, a confession hovers on the tip of my tongue.The truth is right there, ready to flood out like poisoned honey.
But I can’t.I can’t do it.So I follow my own terrible fucking suggestion and try to channel the way I’ve been with her.My smirk.My snark.My confidence.
