Fox sighed again. “I’m sure he knows,you know. That you were trying to help. And I don’t know aboutyou, but aftereverything he’sbeen through… I think I’d quite like a cuddle. Especially if it was coming fromsomeone I knew could protect me.”
“He doesn’t, though. Want acuddle, I mean,” I said. “He doesn’t want to need anyone. And I’m not sure he’sever getting over that. The nicest thing I can do for him is just… listen towhat he told me and stay the hell away.”
“If you love him, let himgo?” Fox asked.
“And hope like hell that he’llcome back? Something like that,” I agreed, looking at the jar of cookie butteragain. “He’s had enough of people shoving their way into his life where hedoesn’t want them. I don’t need to be making it worse.”
“You know what I think?” Foxsat back again, swinging on his desk chair.
“Might just let you tell me,”I said.
“I think it’s a good eveningfor takeout and Netflix. Up for it?”
Oh.
A wave of relief washed overme at the thought of a quiet night in with good company. The last thing Iwanted right now was to be alone with my thoughts, and Fox was trying to saveme from that.
He was a good friend.
“Yeah,” I said, my stomachunclenching just a little for the first time since Miles had kicked me out ofhis office. “Yeah, I’m up for that.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
MILES
THE ELEVATOR RIDE to my dad’s office was oneof the most nerve-wracking of my life. I’d never thought twice about elevatorsbefore, but now this one felt too small, too enclosed. Like a coffin buriedunder six feet of soil.
By the time the doorsopened, my heart was hammering against my ribcage, my palms slick with sweat. Iwasn’tready for this. I couldn’t face it alone.
Yelling at Gray had been amistake. If I’dkept my temper, if I’d let myself cling to him a little longer… he could havebeen here with me.
He would have held my handif I asked. I knew that. Gray would have done more or less anything I asked ofhim.
The way he’d looked at meas I shouted at him to get out told me everything I needed to know about hisfeelings for me. And I’d thrown them away.
Dad’s PA waved me through, likehe always did. Company policy was that everyone in a management position wasalways available to people who worked under them, unless they were already in ameeting or otherwise genuinely unavailable.
It was the least we coulddo, and I was grateful for it right now.
Not that Dad would haveturned me away.
What the hell was I going tosay to him?
I wanted to go inside, throwmyself on the couch, and cry my heart out. I wasn’t sure how I’d stop myselffrom doing exactly that.
Dad looked up as soon as Istepped through the door, closing his laptop instantly. He gave me a long,assessing look, and then gestured at the chair in front of his desk.
Sitting down was one ofmany,manythings I needed right now, so I pulled it out and more orless collapsed into the unusually plush seat.
The chairs were comfortable.Everyone was always welcome in my dad’s office.
Well, aside from a fewnotable exceptions. John never had been, but I’d also never seen him sitdown.
Where did I even start?
“You look like there’s a loton your mind,” Dad said, sitting back in his own chair. “Do you need coffee?Water? Glass of whiskey?”
I probably needed all three.
