“I did it,” I breathe, throwing myself into his arms and clinging to him as he hugs me against his chest. “I got the contract. Thank you.”
He chuckles. “Why are you thanking me? You’re the one who did it. I knew you could.”
I smile, pressing my cheek against him. He doesn’t realize how much he’s done for me. How he’s helped me quiet my self-deprecating inner thoughts and the tools he’s given me to help ease my anxiety.
I smile, pressing my cheek against him, breathing in the familiar warmth of his cologne and the steady strength of his body beneath my hands. Jayce’s arm stays wrapped around my shoulders, firm and protective, like it belongs there.
He doesn’t realize how much he’s done for me. How much he’s changed things inside my head.
Before him, my thoughts were a constant battlefield with every mistake replaying on a loop, every insecurity magnified until it felt impossible to breathe through it. I spent so much time convincing myself I wasn’t enough that I never stopped to question whether that voice in my head was even telling the truth.
Jayce never let that voice win. Not when I spiraled, panicked, or when I wanted to run.
Instead, he’s given me tools. A hand around mine when my thoughts started racing. A calm voice pulling my focus back to the present. The grounding weight of rope around my wrists, reminding me to breathe. To trust. To let go of control in the ways that helped me reclaim it where it mattered.
Every time I doubted myself, he’d looked at me like failure was never even a possibility.
He doesn’t know how much his belief in me has meant.
Yet, at the same time, uncertainty bubbles up inside me.
I don’t want to say it, but I force the words past my lips in a soft voice. “Now that I’ve won the contract, if you want to break things off, we can…”
My voice quivers and I go quiet, the rest of the sentence dissolving in my throat before I can finish it. The silence that follows feels deafening.
Shit.
Why did I lead with that?
What’s he going to say? What if he agrees? I need to tell him how I feel, but how can I after that lead-in? I keep my gaze down, afraid to see his reaction. Afraid that I’ll confess my feelings and he won’t reciprocate them.
The silence stretches between us and I force my gaze up to his. He loosens his hold on me so we can look at each other properly, but he doesn’t let me go. I stand in the circle of his arms, terrified of what he’ll say.
He studies me for several moments, his blue eyes focused, before he opens his mouth, clearly meaning to say something… but before he gets a word out, his phone rings. It startles us both and I jump back as he digs it out of his pocket.
When he sees who’s calling, Jayce’s expression immediately darkens. He glances down at the phone, then back up at me, clearly debating something. For a moment he just lets it ring.
“You don’t have to answer it?” I ask.
“I’d rather not,” he mutters, even as the phone keeps buzzing in his hand.
He exhales slowly through his nose, clearly irritated, and glances at the screen again before looking back at me.
“I don’t want to ruin this moment…” he mutters under his breath.
“You can take the call,” I insist. “Really, it’s okay.”
He hesitates another second, clearly not wanting to take his attention away from me, but with a frustrated shake of his head, he answers.
“Hey,” he grumbles into the phone. “What’s up? I’m busy…”
He trails off as whoever’s on the other side speaks, and I watch his expression grow dark. With a sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.
“Fine. I’m on my way.”
When he hangs up, he meets my gaze, looking almost…ashamed.
“That…that was my PI, Harvey,” he explains. “He wants to meet right away. Says it’s important.”
