My jaw snaps shut.
Felix leans forward, looking like a wounded Golden Retriever. "When's the last time you did something just because you wanted to? Not for your career… for yourself."
“This isn’t about want,” I say, looking away.
“Bullshit,” Silas says, flat. “This is entirely about want. And fear.” His eyes burn into mine. “You want us. You know you do. But you’re terrified of not feeling in control.”
I flinch. “You—You don’t know that.”
“I know you let go enough to cum at least three times with us,” he fires back. My face goes hot. “You seemed a hell of a lot more open to the idea of an 'us' then than you are now.”
“Silas,” I whisper. “Stop.”
"Sure thing,” he shoves his chair back. "This is going nowhere, anyway. Either you want to give this a shot or you don't. But I won't sit here while you rationalize your way out of something that could be incredible just because you're scared."
He tosses a few bills onto the table without looking at the total and stalks out. The bell over the door jingles cheerfully as it swings shut behind him.
The silence he leaves behind feels like a vacuum.
Liam exhales slowly, setting his tea down with care. “He shouldn’t have said it like that,” he says, gaze on the table. “But he’s not wrong.” He looks up, and the gentleness in his eyes hurts more than Silas’s anger. “You need to figure out what you want, Naomi. Not just what’s safest. And running away won’t protect you, it'll just guarantee you never become the person you could've been.”
Then, he stands and heads out.
The bell rings again.
Felix lingers.
He studies me for a long moment, something complicated moving behind his eyes.
“I meant what I said about being scared,” he says, voice rough. “We are. And if, after really thinking about it, you decide work is what you want most… we’ll deal. You’re allowed to choose your life.”
My throat is too tight to answer.
“But if you’re using work to hide…” He swallows. “Anyway, wherever you go, I hope you’re really honest with yourself. That’s all.”
He gives me one last look… soft, hopeful, hurting… and then he’s gone too.
The bell chimes a third time, and I sit there with four cups, too much cash, and my heart somewhere down around my boots.
Chapter twenty-three
Naomi
My cursor blinks over clause 7.2(b), taunting me.
I sit cross-legged on the hotel bed, laptop balanced on my knees, three contracts tiled neatly across the screen. But my brain refuses to engage, the words sliding right off.
Either you want to give this a shot or you don't.
“Shut up, Silas,” I tell the indemnity clause.
I rub my eyes. This is ridiculous. I'm one of the country's top lawyers. I usually review this kind of contract on four hours of sleep and a vending machine granola bar.
Tonight, I can’t even make it through one paragraph without thinking about a pack with hurt feelings.
My phone buzzes beside me.
Email:Re: Re: Re: Discovery Materials – URGENT
