And then I’m left, still in the damn hallway, urgency nibbling at my bones, and second-guessing the shit out of myself.
I nibble my bottom lip, knock one more time, and hang in the hall for a couple of moments longer.
Maybe he’s in the shower.
Maybe he’s traveling for work. No. He would have said something last night. I’m sure of it.
But…work!
Maybe he’s still at work. As in, maybe he’s still at his office. I was working late, catching up on everything, so maybe he’s doing the same.
I start back down the hall, disappointment curling through my middle.
I’ll wait for him, listen for the elevators, or come back later and knock again…
My heart squeezes.
Because I don’twantto wait.
Because that pesky itch to see him is tickling my nape, the space between my shoulder blades.
“Dumb,” I whisper.
Still, when I reach my door, I pause, but I don’t get my keys out, don’t unlock the door, don’t go inside. Instead…I keep walking, not stopping until I’m by the elevators, until I’m pushing the button for the garage level.
Off I go again, the internalbawk-bawkingloud enough that my footsteps don’t falter as I stride back over to my car, as I get inside and hook up my phone, the navigation guiding me to Genen-core’s corporate offices.
I have no idea how I’ll find Jace once I’m there…
But I’m resourceful.
And I’m not thinking about all the ways this might blow up in my face.
“There. Good,” I mutter, pulling out of my building without having to navigate flashing lights or horns or sunglass-wearing women.
The drive takes less than ten minutes during this time of night—something I’m grateful for, considering that Marie Chicken Shit is raring her ugly head, reminding me of all the times I put myself out there…and all the times doing so backfired.
So much so that by the time I reach the campus and pause next to the guard station, my heart is pounding in my chest as I scramble to come up with some reason why I’m here after business hours without permission, and definitely without a guest pass.
But the little guard shack is empty and the arm is raised, and so I just…drive through.
I point my car in the direction of the tallest building, both because it’s the tallest, and also because it’s the only one with lights on inside and cars in the adjacent lot.
“I’ll find security,” I whisper, psyching myself up. “Ask them to call him.”
Simple. Easy. Done.
So why does it feel as though I’m standing in the open doorway of a plane, a parachute strapped to my back, being told to jump.
Because…
I’m putting myself out there.
“Ugh,” I mutter, snagging my bag and shoving open my door.
I walk up to the building, am surprised when the glass door opens when I tug it—no keycard required, no security manning the front desk to greet me or buzz me in.
I move inside, and it’s empty.
