Page 26 of Golden

“Hold it right there,” I cut him off. “I’m not ace. I’m not working too hard. I just haven’t met anyone that I would want to bring home. It’s that simple. Okay?”

Dad exhales and nods. “As long as you’re happy.”

This is it. This is the perfect moment for me to tell him I don’t want to work with him after graduation. I open my mouth, the rehearsed speech lined up and ready to go. Then I wrap an arm around his shoulder and squeeze. “I’m happy, Dad. I promise.”

He exhales against me. “Come on. Your mom will be getting annoyed we’re taking so long.”

Like I said. Coward.

* * *

By the time I get upstairs to bed, it’s almost midnight. We watched some blockbuster film about a spy who gets betrayed and has to prove their innocence while solving the crime they were accused of. Even if I hadn’t already watched a dozen versions of the same regurgitated plot, my mind wasn’t in it.

Thanks to my kitchen conversation, the guilt of not having the balls to tell my dad about my job offer isn’t the only thing circling my mind relentlessly. I told the truth. Sort of. I don’t have a boyfriend. I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school. And I don’t think my parents would appreciate me bringing an occasional hook up home. But when I told my dad I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to bring home . . . As I sat staring at the enormous screen, not really seeing the explosions and special effects, I had to admit to myself that it wasn’t the whole truth. I have met someone. But it’s a dead end. A big, fat, nope on a rope.

Heading into my bathroom, I take off my glasses and brush my teeth. Not an hour has gone by over the last couple of days when I haven’t thought about that kiss. The way Sol’s hard, toned body felt, pressed against mine. The way he let me claim him. But then I remember how he looked as I left. The confusion melting over his perfect features.

Splashing cold water on my face, I chastise myself for the hundredth time for kissing him in the first place. I shouldn’t have gone with him to Zak’s room. Hell, I shouldn’t have gone to the party. Even if Sol Brooker is the hottest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, it shouldn’t have happened. He’s clearly on his own journey and I don’t have the time to guide him through it.

I blink at my reflection in the mirror as my stomach twists. If I’d known I was going to end up kissing him, I wouldn’t have agreed to help with his fundraiser. It’s fine, though. There will be no more kissing. I can still help with the fundraiser. Hell, I can even do all the work for it without spending any time with him. People organize events from the other side of the world. Right?

Switching off my lights, I strip down to my boxers and climb into bed. My parents have a strict ‘no technology’ rule during family events, so my phone has been in my room all day. As exhaustion settles over me and I stifle a yawn, I glance at where it’s charging on my bedside table. The smart thing to do, would be to leave it until the morning.

So, I reach over and pick it up, wincing at the brightness of the screen as it unlocks. There are a few notifications, but only one has my heart racing. I click on the message from Sol, grinning as I add him to my contacts. He sent it at five-thirty this afternoon. He’s probably asleep by now. Still smiling, I tap out a reply.

Me: Happy Thanksgiving. Hope you had a good day.

As soon as I’ve pressed send, I pause. He can’t read into that, can he? It’s a friendly text. I don’t want to encourage him. Shaking the doubt from my mind, I flick through my other notifications and messages. I’m almost done when my phone vibrates in my hands.

Golden Boy: It was nice thx. How bout u?

My heart flutters a little in my chest and I frown. This is just a friendly conversation. Pursing my lips together, my thumb hovers over the reply button. He’ll have already seen that I read it, so I’ll have to reply and then put my phone away until the morning. A little part of me dies inside as I send a thumbs up emoji and click out of the message thread.

Staring up at my ceiling, I hold the phone against my bare chest as my head and my heart play tug of war. I have no idea how the hell I got myself into this situation. Complicated is not something I do, and this feels like a hell of a lot like complicated. My head is telling me I’m doing the right thing. I shouldn’t be encouraging him. Not when it can’t lead anywhere. It’s not like Sol is after a hook up. Right? I think back to the Greek opening parties after our first conversation, where he practically ran away from me to go and feel up a girl.

My stomach squirms at the idea of someone else touching him—which is ridiculous—and I let out a low groan. On my chest, my phone is painfully silent, and I try to quell my disappointment as I place it on my bedside table. I sent a thumbs up. Of course, he didn’t reply. What the hell would he say to that?

I could send another message. Ask another question. Perhaps ask about his sister. The fundraiser. I turn onto my side and stare at my phone, the screen dark. No. I should leave it. It was harsh, but not rude. I mean, we’re not friends and we kissed once. Right? I’ll speak to him when I get back to—

My phone vibrates and I reach out and snatch it up off the table without hesitation.

Golden Boy: FYI I wasn’t freaking out

I stare at the message. He’s talking about the kiss. Right? My heart is loud in my chest as I read the words over and over. I didn’t think we were going to talk about the kiss. I didn’t think he’d want to talk about it. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

Me: Did I say you were?

The three dots appear almost immediately, and I watch them, transfixed.

Golden Boy: You didn’t have to say it. Running away was kind of a big clue.

Running away? Is that what he thought I was doing? My lips press together. Maybe I was. But for his sake.

Me: I wasn’t running. I was giving you time to process.

A flare of annoyance runs through me. I was being considerate. A lesser person might have pushed Sol too far. Could have taken advantage of him.

Golden Boy: I didn’t need time to process

---