Disappointment flooded every inch of my body. This was what I had wanted, to get out of this evening, and now he was letting me go without a protest.
“Janie, I’ll text you when I know my plans. Take a warm shower and relax,” I said soothingly into the phone and disconnected the call.
“Too bad,” Layton said, his face still expressionless.
My belly ached from a weird hunger—and not for food.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t leave her waiting.” I pulled out my clutch and started to take out my company card.
“Hey, it’s on me. I’ll get the bill and take you where you need to go.”
His left eye twitched the slightest bit, and if he wasn’t such a large and looming presence, I would have thought he was holding back tears. That wasn’t his style, though. He was too proud.
“You know what? Is it okay if I grab an Uber or a cab? I hate to send you out of your way, and I really have to go.”
If this wasn’t what I wanted, then why was I running the hell out of there?
Because this wasn’t me. This guy—the closeness, the intimate conversation—none of it was me. Even if it felt amazing, like stoking a fire on a cold night, I wasn’t meant for this. I had a plan and I was sticking to it. Big city, even bigger dreams, and a huge life were in my future.
“It’s not out of my way—”
“It wouldn’t sit well with me. This has been great. I loved the movie. Thanks, Layton.”
I stood and so did he. We stood there in an uncomfortable silence for a beat as my mind raced, my uncertainty lingering.
I might be a successful woman but I was acting like a middle school girl, ditching a boy at the arcade. And of course, I ran.
Because that’s what I do.
Layton made the first move, leaned in and kissed my cheek. This time, he didn’t linger. It was a chaste brush of his lips, and more than disappointment flooded my veins. Shame, self-loathing, and vile thoughts wound their way through my soul.
But I had to follow through because this was so messed up.
“’Bye, Layton. Thank you.”
I rushed out into the night where a small line of cab drivers waited across the street.
