My heart cracked wide open at the pain in his eyes. “You don’t want me to take it.”
“God, no.” The words tore out of him. “I want to march into Reed’s office and tell him to go to hell. I want to hire you away from Ultra Bright myself, give you whatever title you want, whatever salary you want. I want—” He broke off, his jaw working. “I want to keep you, Avery. But not at the cost of your dreams.”
“You don’t get to make this decision for me.”
“I’m not making it for you. I’m telling you what the smart choice is.” His tone was maddeningly calm, like he was explaining a technical problem. “Take the promotion. Forget about me. Move on.”
The words hit like a slap. “No.”
He blinked. “What?”
“No.” I crossed my arms, holding his gaze. “I’m not taking the promotion. And I’m not ending things with you.”
“Avery—”
“I’m quitting.”
That got his attention. His eyes widened, the careful mask cracking. “You’re what?”
“I’m quitting Ultra Bright.” The decision crystallized as I said it out loud, and suddenly I was certain. “I’ve been thinking about going out on my own for a while now. Starting a consulting firm, doing freelance development work. This just pushed up my timeline.”
“You can’t quit your job because of me.”
“I’m not quitting because of you. I’m quitting because Reed Baxter is trying to control my personal life, and I don’t work for people who think they own me.” I stepped closer, and Kyle didn’t back away. “I’m good at what I do, Kyle. Really good. I’ll find other clients. I’ll build something better than what I have at Ultra Bright.”
“Avery.” His voice was rough now, the control slipping. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.” I reached up, cupping his face in my hands. “Because I’m not choosing between you and my career. I’m choosing me. And what I want is both.”
He stared at me, something raw and vulnerable flashing across his face. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough.” I smiled, even though my heart was hammering. “I know you’re brilliant and driven, and you pretend to be cold, but you’re not. I know you held me after, in that car, like you were afraid I’d disappear. I know you make me feel like I can take on the world. And I know I’m not walking away from that just because my boss is an ass.”
Kyle let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. His hands came up to cover mine, pressing them against his face. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.” I leaned in, pressing my forehead to his. “But I’m right.”
“You’re right,” he murmured, and then he was kissing me—soft and desperate and full of something that felt dangerously close to the word I wasn’t ready to say yet.
When we finally pulled apart, he kept his arms around me, like he couldn’t bear to let go. “I want to invest in your consulting firm.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re going to need startup capital. Clients. I’ll be your first client—Winterscape can contract you for development work. And I’ll invest. Twenty percent equity, fair market terms.”
“Kyle—”
“I’m not doing it as a favor.” His gaze was steady, serious. “I’m doing it because you’re the smartest product developer I’ve met in years, and I’d be an idiot not to lock you in before someone else does.”
My throat tightened. “You really think I can do this?”
“I know you can.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. “You’re Avery Craig. You’re going to take over the whole damn industry, and I’m just lucky I get to watch.”
I kissed him again, slower this time, savoring it. When I pulled back, I was smiling.
“I should probably go draft my resignation letter.”
“Probably.” He didn’t let go. “But maybe do it from here? I make excellent coffee.”
