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Releasing a shuddering breath, my head pounds. “Lee, please, let me explain about this morning-”.
“No,” he cuts in harshly. “There’s nothing to say.”
His lips pinch up in an unconvincing smile. “Don’t worry about it. Looks like it was a family situation and something I have no business being a part of.”
His words sting. He’s right, before I would have said the same thing. That it was none of his or anyone else’s business and I would bear the burden alone. But I’m tired of being alone.
“Please, I’m sorry.” I reach for him again, and this time he doesn’t leap away like my touch is poisonous. Feeling the hardbunch of his muscles under my fingertips gives me comfort and strength.
“No,” he repeats, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I asked and pressed for too much. This is my fault.”
He pats at my hand like I’m a confused child and I snatch it away. “It’s not like that. I want more too. It’s that my life isn’t so simple.”
Lee’s laugh bounces around the office area, empty of all but us, as Vanna, Jim and Judith are at the country club going over final details for the breakfast brunch and charity golf tournament in two days.
“Nobody’s life is,” he says. The bitter smile on his face making me hurt all over. “It’s fine. This is for the best.”
“What are you saying? This is it? It’s over?” My voice sounds high and panicky, and I hate it. I hate everything about this.
His beautiful eyes fill with pain. “Did we really even have a thing? What was I to you, Blaire? Your boss that you had sex with? Your boyfriend?”
He lets out a snort. “Your mother thought I was a ‘crippled homeless person’.”
Wincing, I draw back. “She’s a snob. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” His blue eyes glint as they move over me, making the ache in my chest intensify and he nods. “Maybe I will take the rest of the day off. You’re free to leave as well. Goodbye, Blaire.”
Lee shuffles toward his office, each heavy thump of his crutches on the thin carpeting another blow to my heart. I gather my purse and phone and flee out the door before he even makes it to his office.
My green Porsche is a beacon in the parking lot, and I race to it and sink into the familiar leather driver’s seat with a grateful sob.
Relationships come and go and Lee’s correct. We never defined what we had between us.
I fought my attraction for my boss for months. Only to give in, and now look what that got me?
I’m wrecked, mentally and emotionally destroyed. I should have stuck with meaningless strings of one-night stands. They never caused this type of pain. I’d never felt this gut-wrenching agony when I snuck out of a bed leaving a guy sleeping or when I woke up and found the guy had been the one to leave first. Things were simpler and easier doing it that way.
How am I going to continue working here and looking at him every day, knowing how good he smells?
How amazing his body felt within mine and the way he would throw his head back and thrash against the sheets while I rode him?
I can’t scour those images out of my brain.
Even worse? What happens when he moves on?
Dread pools in my stomach and I unclench my eyes, staring straight ahead at the dull gray siding of Breathe Better’s building. It’s an ugly building and I can’t stand the sight of it.
The Porsche comes to life with a throaty purr that I adore, and I slam my heeled foot down on the gas roaring out of the parking lot and away from the man I love that wants nothing to do with me.
I crank the radio loud and lower the windows, glorying in the feel of the wind whipping my hair all around and dashing the hot tears from my cheeks. In no time, I’m outside the city and really open up the engine. This car was made for performance, not for idling at the endless red lights that clog the streets.
With no destination in mind, I just drive, stopping only when I need gas and a drink.
I pull into the dirt and gravel parking lot of a crowded bar that looks like a stiff wind would blow it over and after stuffing some twenties in my pants’ pocket, I head in.
Stepping inside is like time-traveling. I left my modern, clean Porsche for the 1880s and the Wild West. Everything is wood, wood, and more wood in here and the air is thick with smoke. I thought it was illegal to smoke in all public areas in the state, but I guess rules don’t apply to time traveling western bars.
I make my way to the bar, my nose twitching as it’s assaulted by the plethora of odors hanging in the air like heavy fog. Pulling out a twenty, I lay it on the bar and open my mouth to ask for a beer, when a huge male hand slaps down and covers my money.
