“Because I can’t love someone like you!” she shouted. Her broken-hearted eyes continued downward toward the floor as she swept her finger against her mascara-straightened lashes to brush away the tears.
My brows sloped. “Someone like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Cassidy had a thing for acting off pure impulse. It was fine when it was used at the right place and time, and right then wasn’t it. “Answer me!”
When she didn’t respond for the second time, I made my way to the door while pulling the key to her apartment off my keyring. “Then, I guess there’s nothing left to say then,” I verified before stopping to place the key on her countertop and then slamming the door behind me.
I trekked halfway down the hallway to the elevator when she called out to stop me. “Wait, Hendrix. Come back! I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to say that, and I don’t want you to leave. I guess, I just wanted to beat you to the punch. You know, to hurt you first,” she admitted.
I turned and angled a glance down at her. “Why would you wanna hurt me?”
I could see the sadness in her tear-dampened eyes. “I—I don’t. Well, I did, but not anymore. I’m sorry, this is just all so much for me, and I guess I’m not adjusting as well as I thought I was.”
“Do you love me?”
A burst of air shot from her mouth before she drove her eyes down to the floor. “I do love you, I’m just—scared out of my fucking mind. Seeing those photos put me in the worst headspace, and I went into survival mode, okay? Learning how to maintain my sanity in your world is a lot, and I can’t get my heart broken again.” She quaked.
She tried hard to maintain her hard exterior shell, but all I saw was a scared little girl struggling with her own insecurities. Knowing I lacked patience for a lot of shit, Cassidy was someone I saw myself waiting for; in this lifetime or the next. “I told you that your heart was safe with me, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but?—"
“But nothin’, Cass. You already know where I stand, and it seems like I’m not the one that needs to figure out where they wanna be. You either wanna be with the me you know in your heart, or the me these dumb ass blogs are trying to make me out to be.”
“Idowant to be with you, but?—"
“There should never be a but after you say somethin’ that you mean, Cass. Why don’t you get that? I love you,but.I wanna be with you,but.All this red light, green light, stop, go, slow down, stay, leave shit you doin’ is childish, and I’m not on that type of time. And at the end of the day, the real flex is, this is the type of shit I was trying to be on with you,” I fussed, digging into my pocket and pulling out a small gift box.
“What is that?”
“Your Christmas gift,” I told her. “I planned to give it to you after the game, but you dipped out on me.”
“Hendrix, I said I was?—”
“Just open it,” I told her. She took the box out of my hand and pulled the perfectly tied red satin bow apart. Inside was a key to the house I’d recently rented in Kansas City. “I was hoping you could make my new house a home, but I can see you not ready for that.”
She raised the top of her nose to me. “Hendrix, listen. I?—"
“Nah, you listen. I meant what I said about not letting you go, Cassidy, but I’m not doing this back-and-forth dance with your ass. I guess it was only a matter of time until something came along andtried to tear us apart, but I’m still fighting for this to be something. I don’t want to be the only one fighting. So, how all this plays out is in your hands. I don’t want to hear shit else from you right now. I want you to take some time and when you really figure out what it is you want, then you let me know,” I declared.
“Can you at least just come back inside and get a couple of hours of sleep before you go?” she requested.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Hendrix, don’t be like that.”
“I told you I’m straight. Enjoy the rest of your Christmas, Cass,” I told her before pressing the elevator button and stepping inside.
seven
. . .
Cassidy
I’d barely made it through an hour and a half-long staff meeting at work before swiping up my Celine bag from behind my desk and skating off to lunch. I planned to spend the hour refueling with a much-needed meal and the largest cup of coffee I could get my hands on. A week had passed since my life blew up on Christmas, and the bloggers had finally moved on to another story. I finally felt free enough to walk outside my building without hiding my eyes behind oversized sunglasses or shielding my face with my hand. As I stood in the line at the Starbucks down the block from my company’s building, my phone vibrated. Noticing it was coming from my office, I quickly rolled my eyes and braced myself for some unforeseen bullshit.
“This is Cassidy Stokes,” I answered.
“Cassidy! It’s Jacquelyn Warner from human resources. Is now a good time?”
“Y—yes,” I answered hesitantly.
