Page 44 of The One for Forever

“Okay.” We end the call. I’m so thankful for Lark. She didn’t tell me I was being overdramatic or that what I felt was wrong. She knows I need to wallow. I know it’s not like ending a relationship, because Rex and I were never together. I never even thought I had a chance with him.

Maybe that’s what is killing me about this. For those few minutes, Ididhave him. Today, I finally got a glimpse of what it was like for Rex to return my feelings. And it was better than I’d ever imagined. A dream come to life.

I knew I needed to break my heart in order to finally get over Rex. I guess that’s what happened. Just didn’t realize it would hurt this freaking much.

I’ve been sitting here for a while. “You’re going to be okay,” I murmur to myself. Repeating what Lark told me. She threw me a lifeline, and I need to grasp onto it. “Clean up first. Then get ready to go.”

I stand up, brushing myself off. I go to bend over and scoop up my scattered papers.

Then I freeze.

There was just an odd sound right outside my office door. Could it be Lark? No, that wouldn’t make sense. It’s only beenten minutes or so since we ended the call. And she couldn’t get inside my building without a key card.

I hear it again. It’s the strangest noise, and I can’t place it. The rest of the office has cleared out by now. And if there were any other stragglers, they’d just walk past my closed door. Whoever’s out there is lingering.

Could it be the cleaning crew? But Jeff, the janitor, never makes it to my office before nine. I’ve been here late enough plenty of times to get to know him.

Tonight, of all nights, I don’t have the patience for this mystery. I get up, walk to the door, and yank it open. “Can I help you with…” I start to say, but the words die on my tongue.

There’s a person right outside wearing a Halloween-style mask, which is alarming in itself. But a glance at the outside of my door reveals streaks of bright red paint.Lying Slut, it says in messy letters.

This asshole was just spraying that on my office door. And he’s holding up his phone, aiming it at me.

I think he’s filming this.

Maybe I should be scared, but instead I’m furious. “Are youkidding me? Do you have any idea what a shitty night I’m having?”

The guy drops his can of spray paint, palms his phone, and runs. But no. I’m not letting him get away with this. Enough with anonymous stalkers coming after me, sending me notes, dangling promises. I want to see this guy’s face and demand some answers.

“Stop!” I dash after him. Reaching out, I snag his black hoodie and yank him back. He stumbles. I grab at his mask, trying to pull it off. He grunts and pushes me. We struggle for a moment. The mask inches up. His face is exposed, but I don’t recognize him. He’s another random creeper.

“Amber was framed!” he yells at me.

“The hallway cameras already recorded your face, dumbass,” I yell back. I go for my phone in my pants pocket. “You’re the one who’s going to jail.”

For a split second, I’m distracted by unlocking my phone. I don’t see it coming when he charges and slams me hard into the wall.

And then, I don’t see anything at all.

12

Hell is knowing exactly what you want, what you crave, what youneed, while also knowing for certain you can never have it.

But even worse? Taking something that’s not yours. That can never be yours.

What have I done?

I slump in the driver’s seat of my truck, wiping my hands down my face. It doesn’t matter that Quinn kissed me first. I’m supposed to be protecting her. She’s not just a client, she’s my son’s friend. And I just shoved my tongue in her mouth and rubbed my crotch on her.

Max Bennett would probably give me a pass, even though a bodyguard shouldn’t fraternize with a protectee. But I never should’ve given in to temptation.

If Cliff finds out about this, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.

For the last two weeks, since that soul-scorching sex dream I had about her, I’ve been trying to stop lusting after Quinn. And failing. It’s like I unlocked some hidden door in my brain, and now that it’s open, there’s no stopping me. I want her.

That’s why I finally messaged that woman Denise on the dating app. I’d ignored a couple ofHey, how’s it going?prompts from her. But then I figured, why not give it a try? Denise is thirty-eight, divorced, a mom of two. Attractive and successful in her career. A perfectly nice woman. An appropriate choice.

But after chatting with her a bit, I just wasn’t interested. I let our conversations naturally trail off. Then she messaged me again today. While Quinn was chatting with Kendall at the diner, I responded politely to Denise with a last-ditch hope that I’d feel some spark of interest.

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