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I look up to see Darryl peering at me in concern and realize I’ve walked all the way to the break room on autopilot.I shake my head, unable to form words.
I always thought Lois Lane was the thickest woman in the world.How’d such a smart journalist not realize Clark Kent was Superman?How could she be so goddamn blind?
Easy, as it turns out.So fucking easy.And now that I know, it’s so obvious.
I should’ve known from day one.He smirked when we brought up the club.He’s always been strong and graceful.Oh shit, his jobs.Plural.Gabe and Darby knew.That’s why she was so weird last weekend when I was telling her about what I did with Santa Luke.
What I did with Hollis.
I moan, and my hand flies to my mouth.Darryl grabs my upper arm to steady me.
“Do you need some water?Was the salmon bad?I thought it smelled off?—”
“No, I…” I shake my head.“I’m just feeling a little queasy.I think I need to sit down.”
I let him guide me to a chair.“What can I get you?”he asks.
He’s so earnest and concerned that moisture gathers at the corners of my eyes.“I left my purse in the hostess stand.Could you…”
He’s out the door before I finish my sentence, and he’s back almost as quickly.All I’ve managed to do is stand and stare at my locker.
“Here.”He thrusts my bag at me, then takes a step back, presumably afraid I’m about to puke bad salmon on his shoes.
“I’m… I’m going to be taking an out-of-state job soon, and I should really start focusing on that.”My voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater.“I know this isn’t two weeks’ notice, but…”
I brush at the tears that dare to make an appearance on my cheeks as Darryl’s expression shifts to proud-papa mode.
“First Jonesy, and now you.My best people, off chasing their dreams.”He pats me awkwardly on the shoulder.“If today needs to be your last day, just let me know where to mail your final check.”
His face lights up when I say, “You’re a really good boss, Darryl.”What a sweet, dopey man.I yank my coat out of my locker, mumble “Merry Christmas,” and race to the exit.
I’m almost to the safety of CJ’s car when I hear my name being shouted.
“Liv!Hey, Liv!Wait!”
I walk faster, hoping I can fling myself inside the car and drive away, but he’s too fast.
“Liv.”His hand rests on the driver’s side window next to my cheek.“Are you okay?”
God, I love his hands.The strength in the wrist, the map of veins, the golden-brown glint of hair.And those fingers.Those long, strong fingers.
Fingers that were inside of me.
My eyes snap up to his, and I search his face for some explanation, some sign that he got off on keeping me in the dark.
“What’s wrong?”
You.You’re what’s wrong.You let me go on and on about my Santa fantasy.You let me embarrass myself in front of your friends.You were only willing to kiss me when you were using a fake name.
He shifts his weight from foot to foot when I don’t answer.“Darryl said you put in your notice?And you’re taking the Minneapolis job?”His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he scrubs his hands down the front of his jeans.“Does that mean you’re not interested in… in the freelance thing?”
The urge to scream rises so fast that I have to clench my teeth together to hold it in.Because how fucking dare he?I was thinking about making plans around him while he was probably wondering why the hell I was too much of a Lois Lane to figure out his secret identity.
I suck in a breath to hurl my questions at him.Why he lied.If he’s been laughing about how gullible I am.How he’s been able to go on like normal when he actually knows what I sound like when I come.
But what’s the point?No explanation he can possibly give is going to make this better.I was halfway in love with him, but it turns out that he’s just another untrustworthy guy.Why bother trying to make it make sense?
He’s still waiting for an answer, his eyes burning with concern that I no longer believe is real.
