She looks at me expectantly, while I mull over what all this could mean for me and for my career.
Being away from the limelight is what I have done my entire life. I don’t want fame,I just want to be treated right and be appreciated for my work. Being in the eyes of the media means that they’ll dig into everything about me, and might discover my connection with Roman. They might discredit all my hard work and achievements.
Staying behind the camera is where I find peace and keep the monsters of my nightmares at bay, too.
“You can totally say no, Kaeli. No pressure,” Stacy assures me.
But I wonder if there is no pressure. No matter what, if I deny, I would look like an ungrateful and uncooperative woman. And I do want to be the Social Media Director for the team someday, which means keeping my juniors happy and my seniors happier.
So, no matter how much I want to reject this proposal, I put on a fake smile and say, “Of course, I’ll do it. Anything for the team, right?”
Excited and happy with my answer, Stacy claps her hand once. “Yay! That’s great. Thank you. I’ll let the team know.”
With that, she’s gone as I nod at her disappearing figure.
The moment she’s out of view, Idrop my head on the back of my chair and release a frustrated and tired groan. “Fuck me.”
“I could do that.”
That velvety-rich voice caresses my insides like a warm hug, but I’m too irked at the power dynamic in my life that I take it out on him. “Knock on the door before entering, for fuck’s sake,” I yell at him, glaring at him.
His playful smirk slips, and his lips set into a straight line. “What crawled up your ass and died? Because, as far as I remember, I didn’t go anywhere near it, yet,” his tone turns cold, immediately making me regret shouting at him.
But that’s what we do, isn’t it? We insult each other. We don’t care about how our words hurt each other. We hate each other. I need to remember that before I let myself be a complete prisoner to him and have my bruised heart shatter into a million little pieces.
“Get out.” I let the quiet words hang in the air for him to heed. When he doesn’t so much as move from his spot at the door, I yell, “I said, get out!”
Ezra’s hands curl into fists, the knuckles turning white as his jaw clenches, probably wanting to spew every kind of insult known tomankind at me.
And I think he’s going to do that, instead, he just stalks out the door, slamming it shut so hard behind him that I flinch as the glass walls of my office rattle with the force of it.
“Asshole!” I curse behind him, but he’s already gone, and the dam breaks loose as my chest shakes with the onslaught of sobs, tears spilling down my face like a perennial river.
I hate that I can’t help but agree to what the team asks me to do if I want my career to grow. I hate that I have feelings for Ezra that I refuse to acknowledge. I hate that everything feels like it’s out of my hands. I hate that I feel fucking cornered.
Whatever high I was enjoying after spending the night with Ezra comes crashing down around me, burying me under the weight of it. Now that I’ve poured all my anger on him, I don’t think he’ll come back again. No one ever does.
Loneliness embraces me like a long-lost friend.
Thirty Two
Ezra
Why the hell did I not stay?
God, I’m fucking mad at myself for not being the kind of person she’d trust even when agitated.
Instead, like the moron I am, I went ahead and contributed to the said agitation. Earlier, when I impulsively strolled into her office, just because I wanted to see her, and heard her cursing ‘fuck me’, the side that loves to rile her up decided to make an inopportune appearance.
Honestly, that wasn’t something new for ourdynamic. But what was new was Kaeli taking out real anger on me instead of just playing along and pulling my leg right back.
Sensing the tense mood, I should’ve kept my mouth shut or maybe even asked her what was wrong, but I got offended and insulted her right back. Which, in hindsight, was not a smart move.
Forget fucking hindsight, it was a glaringly wrong move. And then when she told me to leave, I did, slamming the door at that.
What I actually should’ve done was hug her, take her hand in mine, and ask her what was wrong so I could make it right. So, I could make it so that she won’t be stressed or angry or fucking sad.
Because that was what she really was, wasn’t she?
