Page 70 of Words We Didn't Say

“Because you still have feelings—”

“Because I havezerofeelings for Michaela, and I’d rather stay on my boss’s good side by avoiding all the damn drama she’s trying to stir up.” My stomach roiled, and I pushed my shake away. “I’ve got some seriously conflicted feelings about how a man I respect has cheated on his fiancée. Everyone else just brushes it off like a joke—Michaela included.” I balled my napkin and pitched it onto the tray.

“Hey.” Eden reached for my hand.“Hey.I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We need to talk about these things, and after what’s happened, you have every right to ask.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “The situation with Chris and Michaela is just something I struggle with, you know?”

“You admire your boss?”

“He’s almost like an older brother to me. He’s been there for me for my entire career, and he’s a damn good lawyer, but…”

She squeezed my hand. “Maybe not a good person?”

“Maybe.” And that knowledge sat in the pit of my stomach like a boulder. “For what it’s worth, I told Michaela about you. I told her how I feel about you and how important you are to me.”

“And what did she say?”

“Honestly? She lost her shit, and I didn’t care. Not one bit. Michaela was never important. I can’t change the fact she works in the same office, but I’m limiting my contact with her and keeping it strictly professional. I swear to you, Eden.”

“Okay.”

That was all she said.Okay.Didn’t she believe me? Uneasy, I took a few bites of my burger, watching as she chewed, thinking over whatever was circling around in her head.

“When is your boring work charity art gallery thing?” Eden asked.

“Next Friday night.”

“Perfect! I’ve got enough time to source an awesome dress to rent.” She grinned, already scheming. “I’m thinking niche Australian designer. Something chic. Black. Definitely silk—”

“Let me buy you a dress.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to buy me a dress.”

“Iwantto. It’s okay if you can’t afford—”

“Zach.Seriously.You’ve seen my salon, right? There’s no mortgage on my space. I own it.”

“Then why are you out there renting dresses?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I love designer clothes, but I’m not wasting three grand on something I’ll only wear once.” She grinned and dipped some more fries in the sauce. “Frugally chic, Yvette calls it.” She happily munched away.

I smiled and dodged the hand she swatted at me when I stole one of her fries. “You like to keep people guessing, huh?”

“Most of the time.” She frowned. “Not you, though. I should’ve been more honest with you about…me…all mymess. I was scared if you knew you’d—” She clamped her mouth shut.

I scooted closer to her in the booth and slipped my arm around her shoulders. “Will you tell me? Whisper it if you want to.”

The returning glance was dubious, but Eden took a big breath. “I was afraid…you’d think…I’m too much.” She admitted it so quietly I strained closer to make sure I didn’t miss any words. “I was afraid if you saw who I truly am, you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

That took some serious courage to admit. “There’s never been a second I didn’t want you,” I reassured her. “The woman I see is confident and caring and maybe, yeah, sometimes a little schemer who keeps me on my toes, but Eden… I’ve seen hints that you were holding something back from the start. It never made me want to walk away. I only ever wanted to bring you in even closer. I’m not always good at doing that, though. I’ve got a lot to learn about relationships.”

Eden snorted. “At least you’ve done this before.”

“A relationship? No, not really. I’m selective about who I sleep with, and I’ve had a couple of longer-term girlfriends, I guess, but I’ve never had what we have with anyone else. I’ve never lived with anyone before. This is all new to me, too. That’s why I can be so confident I’ll do something stupid to stuff this up again.” I rested my chin on her shoulder and absently twirled a wisp of her hair to keep my lips off her cheek. “I’m glad we talked tonight.”

She started nodding, but her bright smile fell away.

“What happened then?” I nudged my nose into the crook of her neck. “Already dreaming up an excuse to get out of the boring work charity art gallery thing for our second re-date?” I wouldn’t blame her. If Chris hadn’t told me I had to go, it certainly wouldn’t be how I chose to spend my Friday night.

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