Page 29 of Always Been You
“Would you like something to drink?” She asks, her voice breathy and uncertain.
My eyes drop to her lips, and I catch the hitch in her breath. The space between us thickens, heavy with unspoken words.
“Lynx…” The name I carved for her comes out rough, almost unsteady, like I need it to ground me. And then the air shifts. I can’t tell if I’m leaning in or if she’s the one closing the distance, but suddenly, there’s no distance at all. My hand brushes her arm, and the contact sends a spark straight through me. She tilts her head slightly, and I swear I forget how to breathe.
Her lips are so close, warm breaths mingling with mine. The faint scent of her, soft and familiar, wraps around me, pulling me under.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, my lips just a hair’s breadth from hers
She doesn’t answer, not at first. Her eyes flutter closed, and I feel her leaning into me; the pull between us is undeniable. I’m caught, lost in her, in the tension that’s been years in the making. But then she exhales, a single word breaking through the haze.
“Stop,” she breathes, her voice trembling as she steps back abruptly. Her hands come up like a shield, a barrier between us that feels sharper than it should. “Ed, we can’t.”
She doesn’t know it yet, but we can now. I’ve made sure of that. I blink, the weight of her words sinking in fast and hard. Disappointment flashes through me, but I mask it as best I can. I nod, taking a step back, my hand dragging through my hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice tight, raw. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Go,” she cuts in, her tone firmer now, more resolute.
For a second, I just stand there, searching her gaze, hoping to find something—just anything that tells me I’m not the only one who feels this. But her expression is closed off, guarded. She’s not ready to share what’s buried inside, and I can’t push her. So I nod again and turn, walking out the door without another word.
The door clicks shut behind me, and the night air is cool against my skin. I take the stairs two at a time, my thoughts circling the way her voice trembled when she said, ‘Stop.’ If I hadn’t pulled back, would she have let me stay? It doesn’t matter. She’s not ready.
I arrive at my floor in the two-story penthouse and step inside to find Josh sprawled on my couch, a violin sound coming from the television. His feet are on the coffee table, a beer bottle in one hand and a bowl of popcorn beside him as he watches Sherlock.
“Really, Josh? Holmes and Watson?”
“Figured I’d brush up on how to deal with a brooding genius with questionable ethics. Sound familiar?” Josh answers without even bothering to look away from the screen.
“Careful. You might get yourself fired,” I scowl, brushing past him and heading to the bedroom. His words stick in my head like burrs, irritating and impossible to ignore. But that’s Josh’s style—always watching, always poking at the edges of what I’d rather keep hidden. He thinks Hanley is the only one who does that to me without realizing he’s worse.
“Don’t worry, I’ll figure out your next move before you can make it. That’s the whole point, right?” He shouts, his voice carrying too easily through the penthouse. I don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning—far too amused with himself. I change quickly and walk back to the living room, dropping into the armchair with a sigh.
“Maybe you should worry less about Sherlock and more about yourself.” Josh finally pauses the show and sits up straight, turning to look at me with that annoying mix of concern and humor he’s mastered.
“Are we talking about me, or are we talking about you?”
“What about me?” I shoot back, sharper than I intended, but I don’t soften it. Josh tilts his head, that smug, knowing look in his eyes. I hate that look. It’s like he can see straight through me, and worse, that he thinks he’s right.
“Everything.” He takes a long pull of his beer, dragging it out like he’s daring me to interrupt.
“You’ve been pushing for the company headquarters to be moved here for a while now, and after we achieve that, what do you do? You bury yourself in more work than ever. Your insomnia has worsened. As if that’s not enough, you keep acquiring properties without any real explanation. Today, you buy a bar. Tomorrow, you sponsor a start-up. Oh, and let’s not forget that you also bought shares in a textile company, which, by the way, is not in our industry. Normally, I’d say fine, whatever, but then you went and bought shares in the Dua Group. THE Dua Group?”
He pauses for a moment, giving me that look like I’ve lost my mind. “What’s next, Eddie? Another textile company? Or are you planning to buy a coffee chain just to round things out?” The words hit their mark, sharp and precise, knocking the air out of me for a second. I push it down, keeping my voice low and controlled. “Tread carefully,” I warn, the edge in my tone unmistakable. I lean forward, elbows on my knees, glaring at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Josh doesn’t even flinch. “Don’t I?” I chuckle at that, short and bitter in response and he just shakes his head.
“I’m serious, Eddie. You’re not thinking clearly. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re supposed to win your wife’s love. The same wife who doesn’t even know she’s married to you. You need to hear this. Love isn’t like a business transaction.”
“I never said it was,” I snap, the words cutting through the air like a blade.
“But your actions say something different,” he fires back, and I can see the frustration creeping into his expression now.
“I get it. I really do. You’ve loved this girl longer than I’ve known you, and I’ve known you for a decade. But using her family? Their business? That’s wrong. If not for anything, think about the love they showed you. Look at what they gave you when you had nothing.”
I close my eyes, trying to calm the fire roaring in my chest. But any mention of Lawliss gets a rise out of me. Always. She’s a button I can’t stop pressing, even though I know I shouldn’t. Moreover, that’s not the reason I bought those shares.
“Why are you here, Josh?” I grind out, opening my eyes to glare at him.
