“You’d hate me.”
“I don’t.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not—I’m not who you think I am.”
“Then who are you?”
He looks at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed like he’s fighting with himself about whether to tell me or protect me or run away.
“I’m someone who’s trying very hard to be brave enough to tell you the truth,” he finally says. “But I keep failing.”
“Then stop trying to be brave,” I tell him. “Just be honest.”
“What if the truth ruins everything?”
“What if it doesn’t?”
He’s close enough that his breath fans my face. If one of us moved just an inch…
His phone rings.
We both jump back like teenagers caught by parents.
Scott pulls out his phone, looks at the screen, and something crosses his face. Panic. Frustration. Resignation.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s Grayson. It’s—there’s an emergency at one of our sites. I have to?—”
“Go. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” He’s backing toward the door. “I’m always leaving you.”
“Scott. It’s okay. Go handle your emergency.”
“Can we—can we talk later? Really talk? I need to tell you—there are things I need to say?—”
“Yes. Later. Go.”
He hesitates at the door, looking like he wants to say something else. Then he leaves, and I’m standing alone in my office with Austen and a racing heart and absolutely no idea what just happened.
Caroline appears approximately three seconds later.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You almost kissed!”
“We didn’t.”
“You were about to! I was watching through the crack in the door!”
“You’re fired.”
“Nice try.” She leaves me standing there with my racing thoughts and the ghost of Scott’s almost-kiss still hanging in the air.
