Page 123 of The Mating Game
It’s only that something inside me is saying that if I leave here—if I leave him behind and chase after my dream—I’ll never see him again. Why does that thought terrify me so much?
“Then…I guess I’ll go pack my stuff,” I say softly, the lump in my throat swelling to epic proportions.
Hunter nods. “Probably a good idea.”
It takes all my willpower to pull my face from the cradle of his hands, then even more to drag myself from the table, leaving him sitting there looking so forlorn and lost that everything in me wants to run back and ask him to beg me to stay. But I know I can’t do that, and I know he wouldn’t even if I asked.
So I leave him there, alone, wondering if I’m walking toward my future or leaving it behind me.
By the timeI’ve called back Heidi at HGTV to confirm I got her email about booking me a flight and packed up my stuff, I’ve gone way past downhearted. I’m miserable, desolate—I’m downright morose. Hunter hasn’t so much as checked on me while I prepare to leave. Heidi sent over my flight details, which have me flying out in five hours, meaning Thomas and I have to be heading to Denver in less than one. So I have just over half an hour to figure out how to say goodbye to the guy who’s wormed his way under my skin after spending the last few hours of my heat with him only this morning.
How do you just hug someone goodbye after everything we’ve done this week? How do I look him in the eye and tell him I’ll call him after he held me for days on end? Is it even possible to get through something like that unscathed?
I zip up my suitcase, realizing I’m about to find out.
“Thomas said you’re leaving soon.”
I jolt at the sound of his voice, then turn to find the man in question leaning against my doorframe, filling the space like he owns it. His arms are crossed over his chest, one ankle resting against the other, and he looks so goddamn delectable right now that I want tounzip my suitcase, spill all my stuff onto the floor, and declare that I’m never leaving.
“Yeah,” I manage. “Pretty quick.”
Ask me not to go, I think desperately.Ask me to stay.
Would I?I wonder. I know deep down that I can’t—that my dad needs me too much for me to even consider it—so why do I still want him to ask?
“Your brothers are confident they can get the rest of the floor stained before tomorrow, at least,” he tells me.
I nod dumbly. “That’s…good.”
“I really appreciate you doing this for me,” he says.
“It was nothing,” I urge. “I wanted to help.” That lump in my throat is a cantaloupe now; it’s a fucking Fall Fest pumpkin. “He’s going to ask about how this place started; you don’t have to mention your parents, but if you’re comfortable doing so, it would add a human element to your story—butonlyif you’re comfortable. You should tell him about all the work you’re doing on the lodge. I’ve got Kyle writing you up a list of the remaining projects as talking points. And if you get stuck, just—” I catch the way he’s looking at me, a sort of wistful smile at his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he says, looking down at his feet. His lips curve upward, but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. “I just miss when you kept saying ‘we.’ ”
The organ in my chest feels like it’s in a vise. Like all the air in my lungs has whooshed out at once. “I could still stay,” I start. “I could talk to Heidi, and I could—”
“No,” he says gently. “You can’t.”
My eyes sting, traitorous tears collecting there. I can feel something like anger brewing in my belly, and I can’t be sure if it’s directed at his aloof demeanor or the situation as a whole.
“Just like that, huh? It’s that easy?”
He frowns. “I told you it wasn’t easy.”
“Yeah, well.” I plop down on the bed, shoving my socked foot into my boot. “Could have fooled me.”
“That’s not fair,” he says.
I scoff. “Well, I don’t think it’s very fair that this morning you were touching me the way you were and now you’re shoving me out the door.”
“What do you want me to say, Tess?” His voice has taken on a slightly harder edge. “That I don’t want you to go? What the hell would that accomplish? We both knew this had an end date. We both knew that you were going to leave once you wrapped this up, one way or another.”
My mouth drops open. “Now who’s being unfair?”
“I’m starting to figure out thatlifeisn’t fair,” he says bitterly.
“Why does it feel like you’re pushing me away?”
