He’s still speaking. I struggle to focus on the words through the rush of blood in my ears.
“It wasn’t because you weren’t doing a great job, you were. And it’s not that I don’t like you, but because I do.”
I open my mouth. Shut it. Open it again. What is he talking about?
“Remember, that day, in the storage room. We were joking about paper and dodgeball?”
After a few seconds, I nod, unable to force words out.
“I backed off not because I didn’t want to kiss you, but because I did.”
The roaring blood in my ears freezes, the world gone silent. Wait. What? My mind scrambles, attempting to make sense of his words. “You . . . made me feel like an idiot because you like me?”
He winces. “I never meant to make you feel bad. I know it sounds horrible, but it wasn’t fair to you. I’m a client, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated, you know? I was basically your boss on the team, which makes it an imbalanced power structure and I really didn’t want to put you in that position. So instead, I did something stupid. I pushed you away, and then I did something selfish and asked for you to be transferred from my team.”
I can’t figure out what he’s saying. I mean, I understand the letters and the meanings of the words, but it’s not computing.
“I don’t understand. You ran away and then had me moved off your team because you like me? But you never said anything. Even after you . . . traded me off.” My voice is rising, anger overpowering the normal nerves.
How could Alex do this? I liked him. I trusted him.
Is he why I got fired?
He holds up his hands. “I was going to say something. I wanted to ask you to dinner or something sometime,” the words come out in a rush, “but then Mark told me you guys were seeing each other.”
I blink. Wait. The timeline isn’t gelling in my mind. For one, Mark himself told me we aren’t a thing even though we’ve been sleeping together for the past month, and for two, we weren’t sleeping together when I was transferred from Alex’s service. In fact, around that time was when Mark started hitting me up with the heavy flirting.
Wait a minute. Did Mark only take an interest because of Alex? Holy shit. Mark started hitting on me after Alex asked him about me, like I’m a shiny toy and he’s a toddler, only interested when someone else wants to play with me. Which is just douchey enough to make sense.
Alex keeps talking when I don’t respond. “And now, I feel like an even bigger fool because you just told me you and Mark aren’t a thing. Weren’t ever a thing. Either he was lying, which fits with his bigger picture, or . . . ?”
I rub my head. Is he serious? “He, we weren’t ever serious. We may have—” My eyes fall shut. This is mortifying. “We may have had some physical moments. But it started a couple months ago and ended . . . well, today. And it was never, he never really liked me, like that.”
His jaw tightens. “Mark’s an ass. I’m sorry. I really hope that my asking for the transfer didn’t have anything to do with you getting fired today. I was very clear to Drew you were an excellent employee. But I can call them and make sure, if you want. Not that you need me to fight your battles, but I feel really terrible that I might have had something to do with it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I—” I blow out a breath. “I’m not sure.”
You don’t fit, doesn’t exactly mean Alex likes you and therefore you’re fired.
I mull over everything I know about this day, the number of times I’ve been fired, the different questions I’ve asked, ideas I’ve tried at work, and I come to an inescapable conclusion. As much as I would love to deflect and blame someone else, I got fired not because of Alex, but because of me.
“No. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. You’re not the idiot. I’m the idiot.”
“So.” He tips his head down, nudging the tip of my shoe with his. “What would you think about being idiots together?”
I laugh. Our eyes lock. His wry smile sinks into a more thoughtful expression. His eyes darken. His gaze drops to my mouth. My entire body flashes hot and my stomach squeezes tight. Is this really happening?
“Jane.” He steps closer, into my space, forcing me to tilt my head back to hold his eyes.
His head dips down. This is incredible. Amazing. Fantastic. I stretch up. We’re so close, his breath feathers my lips.
Oh, no. I’m going to screw this up.
Panic pushes up from the ground, starting at my feet and racing to the top of my head in a gush of dread. At the last minute, I wrench my head to the side and his mouth connects with my ear.
“Oh.” He shifts back. “Um. Jane? I’m sorry, I thought—”
“No. I’m sorry. I-I—” I take a deep breath, or attempt to, but panic is a set of muscled arms wrapping around my chest, squeezing. I can’t breathe.
Black spots cloud my vision.
Not this. Not now, of all times. Roaring fills my ears with white noise and my vision blackens. “I have to go.”
Chapter Nine
I think Alex follows me, or tries to, but I lose him, passing through a busy crowd of people forming in front of the Saloon. My surroundings are a blur of streetlights and buildings and traffic and pedestrians. I focus on my steps, one at a time, something to focus on while I work to calm my galloping heart.
I keep going, on and on, until I can breathe again and the panic subsides. I’ve walked half the damn peninsula, chugging up and down hills, before my body settles down.
What is wrong with me? Why did I run from Alex?
