Nick lifted his hand and cupped my cheek, tilting my head up. He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. The moment our mouths touched, all the anxiety I’d felt melted like the Wicked Witch of the West into a puddle.
I was melting right along with it when he broke the kiss and pulled me into his arms. He held me in a tight embrace as he whispered against the top of my head, “I’m glad you did. You make everything okay.”
Another knock sounded, and he released me with a sigh. I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment about having to do a live talk about his past or if it was because he hadn’t wanted the embrace to end.
“Come in.”
The room filled again, and I was quickly introduced to the woman who had been at his desk, his producer, Ariel. And the audio engineer, Carl. Nick walked to his desk and sat down as the team worked to get the live stream ready. Part of me wanted to stay and watch, but I’d done what I’d come here to do.
I slipped out of the room and was standing in front of the elevators when Kurt appeared. “Mr. Locke would like you to wait in the lounge for him.”
The temptation to stay and wait for Nick to be done was overridden by me looking like a college student who had been on a bender and shown up for finals hung over. “Oh, I can’t. I’m sorry, I need to get home.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“No, I drove.”
He nodded as I stepped onto the elevator.
As I rode down to the parking garage, my body was still flushed with adrenaline. I wasn’t sure if it was from the media crisis or the kiss. Probably both. The crisis had been averted or at least managed, but that didn’t mean all the hormones that had been released in my body just went away.
I was taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down when Nick’s words played in my mind.
You make everything okay.
It wasn’t a grand declaration of undying love, but it felt like more than that. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted—someone who made everything okay? The thought of being that person to him was more than I could ever hope for if it were real. But I knew it wasn’t. He only felt that way about me because of the circumstances under which we’d met. It had basically the same symptoms as Stockholm Syndrome. He’d bonded with me under traumatic circumstances, and his feelings were the result of that. Nothing more.
Just like Lola had not intentionally leaked the story, I would have never slept with Nick if I thought he’d develop feelings for me, even if they weren’t real. In a million years, I never would have guessed that he would actually become attached to me. He was a billionaire playboy who dated supermodels and had a three-strike rule. I’d thought the only feelings I was risking were mine. Which, in the long run, I knew was true. Any affection he felt for me would fade when his life went back to normal.
Unfortunately, my feelings for him would not. I was in love with him. After this was over, I was going to have to try and superglue my shattered heart back together. All I could do now was do my best to stop romanticizing our relationship and put an end to this sneaking around, hooking up in secret, limbo lovey-dovey, gray area situationship I’d allowed.
It was time to return to the harsh reality of professionalism and boundaries. No more stolen kisses. No more flirting. No more personal interactions. It didn’t matter how I felt or even how he thought he felt. I’d played with fire, and we were both getting burned. And I was the one to blame.
