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The drive back is a silent one. Savannah doesn’t look angry. In fact, she doesn’t look like she has any particular feelings about the event at all.
That probably isn’t a good sign.
When we return to downtown South Shore, she gets out of the car as soon as I throw it in park.
“If you don’t need me, I have plans tonight that I’d love to go home and get ready for.”
I give her a strained smile. “What plans?”
“A date.”
I make a strangled, winded sound. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
She tosses her hair impatiently. “Someone I connected with on an app.”
“Ugh. The dating apps. Right.” I squint into the distance.
“Yep.” She smooths her hands down the front of her jacket. “So? Can I go or not?”
The back of my neck heats. “Sure. Yeah, whatever. Have a great date.”
“Thanks. I will.” She closes the car door and practically sprints to the ancient junker she drives.
I stare after her for several seconds.
That could’ve gone better. I’m just not sure how.
Something tickles the back of my brain when I run over the conversation again in my head.
I kissed Savannah. No… I’ve kissed her several times. And I apologized for my actions. But her answer was not exactly the eager acceptance I was looking for. I wish Savannah was still here.
I wish I could try apologizing again.
Fuck, I wish I could kiss her and feel the rush of excitement when she kisses me back. I crave that, for whatever reason.
I crave her.
I don’t have any right to get possessive over my personal assistant. But the idea of Savannah out on a date with another guy gives me an uneasy sensation at the pit of my stomach. The fact that she’s gone for a date with someone else… that she might get excited when someone else kisses her…
It’s tearing me up inside. Can I really be so immature?
Just because I’m back in my hometown does not mean I can start acting like a lovesick teenage boy again.
I frown as I climb out of my car and walk toward the office building. It’s cold as hell outside, and I pull my jacket closer, my mind still on Savannah. The main question is whether Savannah told me about her date to make me jealous.
Would she do that? And why was it working?
Just as I reach the door to my office, my brother River claps me on the shoulder.
“Hey!” He looks at me, a little puzzled when I startle. “I was calling your name from down the block. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just distracted.” I catch my breath as I embrace him, then unlock the office door.
He follows me in with a grin, and flops down on the couch. River has always been like this. He’s at home anywhere. It’s a mild annoyance.
“Oh? Is it building permits on your mind?” He grins and leans back. “Or maybe that sexy secretary of yours?”
“She’s a personal assistant, not a secretary. And I was wondering about how we are going to build this training camp in three years.”
