The hope I had that crews were out repairing lines from the storm’s damage dwindled the longer I sat on the bathroom floor and listened. Every now and then, there was a rumble of thunder in the distance, but I wasn’t sure if it was getting farther away or if it was closing in on where we were.
Then again, did it really matter?
Things couldn’t get any worse.
Weston was out there doing who the hell knew what while I stayed locked in the bathroom, unable to look at him any longer. The truth was, I was fed up with how he was acting. I was also disappointed in myself for dropping Lennon’s truths the way I did.
It was best for us to keep our distance. To stay as far away from each other as we could. One of us was bound to get burned if we didn’t. Judging by the way it was going so far, it was clear that someone would be me.
I leaned my head back on the wall and closed my eyes. Rest was almost impossible with the way the storm raged on. But also because I couldn’t get the night’s events out of myhead. Every minute of the evening was there, playing on repeat. There was also the ringing in my ears that picked up in the quiet. Eventually, it would fade away, but I wasn’t quite there yet.
I imagined things being different. I thought about what I was going to have to do when I got out of here. Breaking up with Lennon was inevitable. Drawing it out wasn’t going to help either of us. If anything, it would only stir more resentment. Not that I necessarily had any, but I was sure it would pop up eventually, because at the end of the day, Iwashurt over Lennon's actions and words.
As much as he said he’d do better, he failed every single time. I was coming to terms with the fact that we weren’t right for each other.
There were also the glaringly obvious feelings that manifested in my body when Weston was so close. What I felt when his hand was on me wasnotnormal in any sense of the word, which only reaffirmed that Lennon wasn’tthe one for me.
I might have been young—only twenty-six—but I knew attraction when it hit me. I had a good enough relationship with my body to know when that needy desire blossomed and when it didn’t.
I was just trying to figure out why it was Weston who made me feel that way. Out of everyone in this damn office, why was it the Taylors’ brothers who made my heart do all sorts of weird things?
Footsteps sounded outside the door, and damn it, I wish they didn’t. It meant Weston was close, and I didn’t want to think about that. The only thing I wanted was to get the hell out of here, pretend the night never happened, and show up to work on Monday all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Well, as long as Weston didn’tactuallyfire me when wegot out of here. I didn’t exactly speak to him nicely. Some would have even said I was out of line.
I groaned, but it was so low that only I could hear it. Frustration swirled through me at my stupidity. At my inability to stay in my own lane when it came to that man out there.
He got under my skin in the worst of ways. He tested me. He made me absolutelymad.
A crinkling sound I couldn’t quite place sounded, and I squinted against the darkness in the bathroom. It was pretty much pitch black outside of the tiny strip of light coming under the door from the flashlight, which was exactly where my eyes went. I found the same protein bar Weston tossed my way on the floor, just clearing the thickness of the door.
I couldn’t help but think:here we go again.
This push and pull with him was becoming exhausting. No, scratch that. It already was.
I didn’t want to touch the bar. I wanted to pretend like it didn’t exist. I wanted to smack my hand against it and send it flying back out under the door like a puck across ice.
That would send a message loud and clear. But was that what I really wanted? Did I want to add fuel to the fire that burned between us?
The answer was no. As much as we bickered, it wasn’t because I necessarily wanted to. I tried so many times over the last few months to be decent with Weston. It was usually always him who started it. It was him who ignored me, who snapped at me, who said things that shouldn’t have been spoken at all. The only time he actually put on a decent front was when his brother was around, but I was pretty sure that was more for pleasantries than anything else.
If nothing else came from me knowing Weston, I could live with the fact that I wasn’t a spiteful person. That I wasexactly who I said I was, even when he accused me otherwise.
There was also the fact that I was really hungry. Fainting almost made my hunger pangs worse after my body settled down. I thought of food no less than a dozen times since hiding away in this blackout of a bathroom.
So, I snatched up the bar and tore at the wrapper, sinking my teeth into the soft, gooey texture and sighing when I swallowed the first bite. I finished it in three seconds flat before rolling up the wrapper and rocketing it under the door with a flick of a finger.
It wasn’t long until those lingering footsteps stopped. What came after was the rattle of the bathroom handle before the door softly pushed open. My stomach and heart jumped, both competing with each other in height. I pushed myself back into the wall, my feet flat against the floor and my knees bent, pointing toward the ceiling. My dress fell down my legs, bunching at my waist, but it wasn’t like it mattered. No one could see anything in here.
And Weston probably didn’t even want to look at me, anyway.
A more pressing thought, though, was how he unlocked the door and why he was encroaching on my space. Wasn’t he sick of me? Didn’t he want to get as far away from me as possible?
I was so used to him being difficult that my mind couldn’t make sense of his presence. Couldn’t make sense of him sticking something in the flathead lock to twist it free.
I didn’t want to be the first to talk. I said what I had to before. Besides, it wasn’t me who had to apologize for being a rude ass.
He closed the door and slid down beside me, his hip pressed firmly against mine before he scooted away an inch.
