Page 89 of That Fake Feeling
Thisis not how my life works.
Mylife works only ifIstudy and stay away from relationships.AndI’mteetering dangerously on the brink of really liking someone.Andnot just anyone.Someonewho will cast me aside after his image is rehabilitated, his company’s sales are up, all the members of the board love him again, and he can go back to fulfilling what he sees as his obligations to his parents andMax’spact.
MaybeI’ma fool to try to kid myself thatI’llbe okay becauseI’veknown from the start it’s only short term.MaybeI’mactually opening myself up for a world of hurt.AndIcan’t put myself through that, no matter how muchIwant his hands and mouth all over my body.
Myheart races with panic, andIwriggle out from under him.
“Sorry, sorry,Ijust…”Ibutton my top back up. “Ijust need to go to the bathroom.”
Helifts his flushed face and pushes his hair back.
“Ofcourse.”Helooks a little hurt, like he can tellI’mmaking an excuse.Buthe plays along. “There’sone down there, behind the kitchen.”
“Thanks.”
Mychest tightens, andIcan almost hear the blood racing through my veins asIrush down the hallway.
It’slikeI’mbeing torn in two.Halfof me saysIshould throw myself into this thing wholeheartedly and just have some goddamn fun for a change.Theother half tells me to back the hell up, this is a job.Justdo the job, take the paycheck, go back to school, and stick with the plan.
Ishut the bathroom door behind me, sit on the closed toilet lid, and rest my head in my hands.
Whyis this so hard?
AuntJensays meditating helps her solve every problem.Ihave no clue how to meditate, butIcould give the deep breathing part a try.Anything’sworth a shot right now.
Istraighten my back and close my eyes.
Whatthe hell amIsupposed to do with my hands?Isthere some sort of “om” position you’re supposed to put them in?Oris that yoga?
Thesedifficult decisions aren’t doing my stress any good at all.
Iclasp them together in my lap, run my fingers overMom’spearl ring, and take a giant breath that lifts my chest and relaxes my shoulders.
AsIlet the breath out slowly, my jaw unclenches.
Acouple more breaths, and my heart rate drops to something closer to normal.
Acouple more, and the fog of panic begins to lift.
MaybeAuntJenisn’t so bonkers after all.
Okay, yes.Hello, clearer brain.
Ijust need to remember, when it comes down to it, this is a job.Atemporary job that will change my life.AndI’vedeveloped unprofessional feelings for the boss.Whichis the stupidest thingIcould do.
Ineed to put all this sexy nonsense out of my head, shove all thoughts of him being a warm, smart, creative soul with the hottest shouldersI’veever seen, into a box, and slam the lid tight shut.
Twomore deep breaths, andIopen my eyes.
Okay.Ican do this.
Ijust have to tell him we need separate rooms butI’mhappy to get out on the beach and put on whatever performance is necessary for any photographers who might be lurking in the sand dunes.
Iturn on the cold tap and splash water on my forehead.Itmight take a bucket of ice cubes to make me not want to jump onConnor, but this will do for now.
Idab the powder-blue towel against my face and look myself right in the eyes in the starfish-etched mirror.
Onemore giant breath.
