He nods, just once. “Some new information came to uh, light as I was working with my therapist. I mean, I’m not going to stop hating you right this second, but, uh…” He pauses, and my heart beats faster. “I think it’s time I let it go, for me… not for you.”
“That sounds like a really good idea,” I agree, placing my hand on his thigh.
We both look down, my stomach dropping at the act, but it was such an instinctual movement, I didn’t think anything of it. I feel the flex of his muscles under my hand, yet I can’t pull my hand away.
He clears his throat, and I finally come to my senses, drawing my hand back as if I’d been burnt.
I just hope he never finds out about the secret I’m hiding, because if he does, he’ll never forgive me again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
THEO
It still feels like pulling teeth being nice to Blake, but I think that’s more to do with the fact that I’ve hated her for so long, I don’t know how else to react. My heart is telling me one thing, but my brain—which is usually the loudest—tells me to keep hating her, that it's safer this way. I can’t keep living like this though. I can’t keep holding people at arm’s length because I’m terrified of opening myself up again. Not that I’m looking to have a relationship with her or anyone else, for that matter. I don’t think I could go through it again.
My stupid heart didn’t like it, though, when she told me she was too busy to go back to Habitat. Jealousy coursed through my veins and threatened to consume me. I don’t share well with others, and even if she isn’t mine, she still feels like it. It still feels like she never left. How fucked up is that?
The tension lessened when she said it wasn’t because of another guy, but I still feel like she’s hiding something. I need to figure out whether I want to know. My anxieties tell me no, likefuck do I want to know, but another part says yes, if I don’t know, it’ll only send me further into a spiral.
Strolling into the office, Aimee glares at me. It’s been a week since the Blake incident, and she still hasn’t forgiven me and I fucking hate it.
I hate it when people ignore me or try to distance themselves from me. Granted, that one hasn’t happened in a long time, as I haven’t let anyone close to me, but still. I replay every conversation or exchange and wonder where I went wrong, questioning and blaming myself for things I couldn’t control, even though deep down I know I didn’t do anything wrong. However, in this case, I was in the wrong and should never have treated her that way.
Stopping at her desk, she ignores me while she answers the phone. I stand and wait, sweat dripping down my spine with the anxious need to fix my mistakes. Finally, she puts the phone down and looks at me, hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m working on it,” I say sheepishly, swallowing thickly.
Her hands fall from her hips to hang at her sides as she sighs. “Theo, you know I love you and your childish ways. It’s one of your most endearing qualities, but you took it too far.”
I nod. “I know. I’m sorry.” I give her my best smile and puppy dog eyes. I know I’ve got her when her lips quirk up slightly.
“Just don’t do it again,” she admonishes.
I make a cross sign over my heart. “Promise.”
I jog around to her side of the desk and pull her in for a hug. I’ve never seen Aimee as anything other than a friend, one who’s saved my ass far too many times to count. The knots in my stomach loosen knowing she’s no longer mad at me, and I breathe a little bit easier.
Drawing back, I bop her gently on the nose before heading to my office, needing to tie up loose ends on other cases. Frank demanded Harper be the main priority, and she is. I just need to finish these last few details.
I shove the door open to my office, and I’m still stuck in my head when I hear a squeak. I jump six feet in the air. For a big, burly guy, I’m a bit of a wimp at times. The squeak happens again, and I glance around my office, finally settling on a small figure huddled in the corner next to my transformers collection.
“What are you doing in here, kid?” I ask quietly, standing in place.
Their head whips up, and I’m startled by the color of their eyes—bright blue. So much like mine, they momentarily make me wonder what it would be like to have a kid of my own one day, one that looks like the spitting image of me.
“My mom’s working. She told me to stay in the library, but I got bored.” He shrugs, hands fidgeting with the Bumblebee action figure.
“Yeah, this place sucks,” I agree, nodding. “Full of stuffy lawyers who don’t know how to have fun.”
The kid laughs. “You’re funny,” he says.
“I’ve been told that a time or two,” I reply, walking toward him. I gesture to the floor. “Can I sit?”
“Sure.” He moves, and I ease my large frame down opposite him.
The space is tight, my suit jacket pulls against my shoulders, and my pants ride up my ass, but it’s the most comfortable I’ve been for a long time.
“Bumblebee’s my favorite,” I say, making conversation. “The way he can’t talk but speaks through music is my love language.”
