He didn’t sit next to me in the booth. It bothered me. Almost as much as the long silence that stretched between us. Gone were his probing questions, his insistence that I reveal parts of myself that no one has seen before.
It should have been a relief.
But it wasn’t. Not when I could tell there was something bothering him.
Something he was keeping from me.
And here he is the next morning, too far away once again.
“Why are you sitting over there?” I ask. There are several feet between our chairs. I can’t even reach out and touch him.
He doesn’t so much as glance my way. “I’m not. I’m sitting a normal distance away.”
I push my glasses up my nose. “No, you’re usually right on top of me.”
“You should be happy I’m not. You’re always complaining about me invading your space.”
My mind whirls. Did I do something wrong last night on our date? He seemed in good spirits until our walk. Something changed during the meal, or perhaps just before. He was subdued during the car ride home, too. After the disastrous helicopter ride, I arranged to have a limo waiting for us. Neo was grateful, but quiet.
So quiet.
Even so, I half expected him to follow me to my room after we arrived home, but instead, he gave me a quick wave and ran off.
Something happened, and I don’t know what.
My eye twitches. I hate not knowing what’s wrong, not knowing what I did to upset someone. My skin feels too tight and my brain starts to hurt. I just want him to lay it out, to tell me exactly what I did so I can fix it. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I broke in the first place.
I continue to stare at Neo. Eventually, he snaps. “What? Is there something on my face?”
His head doesn’t turn. I hate that he’s not looking at me. But not as much as I hate how my voice is soft and low. Almost fucking needy. “Why won’t you look at me? Did I do something wrong?”
He stops clacking on the keyboard and turns his gaze toward me. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
I blink at the gaping space between us.
He sighs loudly and then stands up, scraping the chair toward me and plopping down. He’s closer, but not close enough.
“Better?”
No. Not really. But I drag my stare away as Dotty appears with our coffee delivery. She glowers at me, and I shrink back, unsure if she can feel the distance between Neo and me. Maybe he told her something I don’t know. Maybe she knows why he’s upset.
She sets the food and drinks down, offering Neo a small smile before glowering at me again.
I stand up abruptly and wave toward the office door.
“I need to speak to you,” I tell her, making Neo glance up. He’s wearing another ridiculously short shirt, one that saysCertified Cutie. It shows off his thin waist and his little belly button.
He is cute.
He is certified.
I hate that I notice.
“Why do you need to speak to her?” Neo asks. This is the most he’s spoken to me all morning. He didn’t speak when he ordered my coffee and pastry, only nodded and shook his head when he needed to give me a response.
I hate that my chest swells at his attention.
It’s making me weak, and yet I’m too fucking confused right now to care.
