Page 69 of That Moment
He blinks, breath unsteady. “What’s wrong?”
Everything. Nothing. I can’t tell him the truth, that I want all those things I said earlier with him, because there’s only one answer he’d give me if I said that. I’m not that guy, Adrienne, and you know that.
“Nothing. It’s late,” I say, aiming for breezy. “I’ve got an eight a.m. with New York.”
He looks at me like he can see right through the lie. “Stay.”
It lands dead center in my chest. One word. I slip sideways under his arm, laughing lightly like I’m not shaking apart inside. “Can’t.”
“Adrienne.”
“Don’t go serious on me now,” I say, reaching for the brushes to hang them back where they belong, because if my hands are busy, maybe my heart will calm down. “You hate it when I’m anxious, and if I don’t get to prep for my call tomorrow, I’ll be all kinds of anxious all over your house.”
His mouth tilts, not amused. “I hate it when you lie to me.”
I pretend I didn’t hear that and aim for flirtatious instead, the safe lane we always return to. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I toss over my shoulder. “Or maybe delayed gratification. I’ll see you this weekend at the garage.”
He catches my wrist before I can step past. Not hard. Just enough to make me feel caged without being trapped. “Adrienne?”
I could say it. I could be brave and tell him the truth: that I don’t want this to be a game anymore, that I’m tired of being a safe detour on the way to the next disaster, his or mine. But that’s not what Scotty is offering, never has been. That’s what that tone is about when he says my name. It’s a warning in just a single word.
Don’t look at me like that, I’m not your happily ever after.
Instead, I slide free, lift my chin, and keep us both in a place we know how to survive. “I want a hot shower, six hours of sleep, and for you to admit I can out-rope you if you ever man up and take the bet.”
His smile is slow and unwilling, but it’s there. “You missed by an inch, sweetheart. An inch.”
“Night, Scotty.”
“Night, Barbie.”
I step outside and slowly make my way toward my car. Behind me, I hear his boots scuff, then stop. He doesn’t follow this time.
I look back over my shoulder, into the dark mouth of the barn. I can’t see him, but I can feel him. And I know if I take two steps in that direction, I’ll be back against the wall with his mouth on mine and. Instead, I take the safe bet and head home, the truth deferred another night.
For the last several days,I have been MIA from everyone. A “major deal” I’m closing for Slade was taking up all my time… is what I’ve been telling everyone, but the truth is, I needed a minute to get my ass above water after my late night at Scotty’s.
Brooklyn knocks once, then pushes my office door open without waiting for an answer.
“Hey,” she says, stepping inside with a coffee in one hand. “You said you wanted to talk to me? What’s up?”
I blink out of the spreadsheet I’ve been pretending to read for fifteen minutes. “Right. Yeah. Come in before I forget what actual human interaction feels like.”
She drops into the chair across from my desk, crossing one long leg over the other. “You look tense. Contract drama, still or Scotty drama?” She wriggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
“Wow. Straight to the throat today, huh?”
“Call it experience.” She takes a sip, watching me over the rim. “So?”
I sigh and shut my laptop. “You were right.”
Her brows lift. “About?”
“Scotty,” I say matter-of-factly. “You and Amelia made some really good points, so after our last talk, I decided to really consider everything. You were right. I’m keeping it fun.”
Brooklyn’s mouth curves in thatsure-you-areway that only a woman who’s been through this knows. “Uh-huh. Just fun.”
“Yes.” I lean back, lacing my fingers behind my head. “He knows what I want in a man and in a relationship. I made it clear to him on two separate occasions, giving him the chance to tellme that he’s that man. He’s never once said he wants the same thing. I’m not going to torture myself over it.”
