I watched him walk back down the sidewalk until he disappeared through the door of a narrow townhouse three doors down. I ducked back into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut.
“Taylor.”
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice flat.
“It’snotfine,” I argued, frustration bleeding into my voice. At myself for being such a coward, or at him for not fighting me on this, I wasn't certain. Maybe both.
He blew out a breath and finally glanced my way. His expression was exhausted. Utterly defeated. “What else were you supposed to say, Seb?” He shook his head. “Besides, it’s not technically a lie. Youaremy best friend.”
“I hate that I had to say it like that.”
“I know.” His hand covered mine for a moment before sliding away. “But you did what you had to do. That’s the deal, right? This is what we agreed to.”
“That doesn’t make it any less fucked up, though.”
Taylor was quiet for a long moment, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “He seemed nice. David.”
“He is.”
“That’s good.”
The conversation died off, neither of us working to fill the silence. It was the kind of quiet heavy with everything we weren’t actually saying.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Fuck. I really needed to get going.
“I should?—”
“You should go.”
I stared at Taylor's profile, willing him to look at me, but he kept his attention fixed out the windshield.
“I’ll call you later?”
“Sure,” he said, but the words felt hollow.
I hesitated, my hand lingering on the door handle, searching for something to say that would fix this.
“Go, Seb. You’re going to be late.”
With a heavy sigh, I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk again. I stood there for a moment, hoping Taylor would roll down the window and offer some parting words that would assure me we were going to be okay, but he just checked his mirrors and pulled away from the curb.
I watched his taillights disappear around the corner. When I turned toward my apartment, my feet felt heavy. Wrong. Like I was walking in the opposite direction of where I was actually supposed to be.
CHAPTER 23
The meeting lasted three hours.By the end of it, we had a counter-strategy for Merrick’s new ads, a revised media calendar, and a press release ready for Kendra’s approval.
“Got a minute?” I said to David after everyone else had left the room.
He looked up from where he was packing away his laptop, his expression carefully blank. “Sure.”
I tilted my head toward the door. “My office?”
He followed me out silently.
Our offices occupied the second floor of a converted brick building, and my office—if you could even call it that—was a narrow room with a small window overlooking a back alley. I was pretty sure at one point it had been a supply closet.
I closed the door behind us, and David settled into the tiny sofa that lined the far wall. I leaned against the edge of my desk, my palms braced on either side of my hips.
