Page 83 of Kismet

But I also want early mornings, waking up together.

I want midday naps together, where we do much more than sleep.

And sunrises. Sunsets. Nights under the stars.

I fucking want it all, and I’ll probably never have it because I screwed it all up.

I end up losing myself in my work. I have meetings later on that I have to get ready for, and I don’t realize how much time has passed until I hear a soft knock on my door.

“Come in!” Glancing at the time on my computer, it’s already after ten. Here goes nothing.

The door pushes open and in he walks. He’s wearing navy-blue slacks that mold to his form perfectly, a short sleeve white button-down shirt, and his hair is slicked back, not a stray hair in sight. He looks stunning.

There’s a storm of emotion swimming in his dark eyes and his lips are pinched in a straight line as he takes a seat in front of me.This isn’t going to be good.

“Good morning, Cash.”

“Hey. Thanks for letting me stop by on such short notice.”

“It’s no trouble. What’s up?”

His knee is bouncing up and down incessantly. “I want to talk about what happened Saturday.”

“Yeah, me too. I was disappointed to find you gone when I woke up yesterday.”

“It was a mistake, Stone. It shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t be happening again.”

Ouch… like a knife straight to the chest.

No. Don’t fucking say that. “Why?”

“Why?”He pinches the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, letting out a heavy sigh before continuing. “Maybe because you’re my boss. Maybe because we were both drunk and clearly not making good choices. Or maybe because I don’t fucking like you and the ship between us sailed a long fucking time ago… like, say, five years ago, when you fucking vanished!”

He jumps to his feet so aggressively, the chair falls back, and he begins pacing back and forth in front of my desk with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. I can practically see the steam pouring from his ears in thick clouds.

I need to tell him. He needs to know it wasn’t like he thought. My lips part with every intention of spilling everything… but I can’t. I can’t find the words, can’t get them out. Instead, I sit forward and say, “Cash, it doesn’t have to be like this. Can we just talk about it?”

Stopping his pacing, he turns to face me, hands planted on the desk. “You’re damn right it doesn’t have to be like this, butyoudecided that for the both of us five years ago, Stone. You don’t get to make those calls now. Too little, too fucking late. We will not be hooking up. We will not be friends. You’re my fucking boss, and that isit. I want nothing more from you.”

Before I can get another word in, he spins on his heels and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him. The frames on either side of the door shake from the force, and anger bubbles in my gut, putrid and blazing.

Anger at myself for hurting him in the first fucking place, but also anger at myself for thinking he would ever be open to anything with me ever again. Why the fuck would he want to be my friend? Or more?

Fuck.

******

It’s pouring down rain.

Fat, warm pelts of water shred into me as I ride to Molly’s, heavy winds whipping around me. I should’ve driven my damn car to work, but it was nothing but sun in the forecast.

Dumb fucking forecast.

This day can suck a fucking dick. The whole goddamn day. After Cash stormed out of my office with the last fucking word, I effectively got next to nothing done, then proceeded to get yelled at by a student’s parent fortheirchild flunking their classes and getting put on academic warning.

I haven’t been this excited to get the fuck off work in years. Going to Molly’s for dinner—especially sopping wet—doesn’t sound like my idea of a good time, but since I bailed on her last week, I can’t do it again. So I have to suck it up.

By the time I park my bike in her driveway, I’m drenched and more pissed off than when I left work. I stomp up the steps leading to her house, pounding my fist on the door harder than I probably need to, and when she answers the door, she laughs.Fucking laughs!

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