Page 30 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

MIA

I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, blinking furiously against the hot tears threatening to spill over. The morning sun glared through my windshield, making my eyes burn even more as I navigated the quiet streets away from Jack’s house.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered, the word becoming a mantra as I replayed what had just happened. I’d fallen asleep on Jack’s couch. Woken up practically on top of him. And then, in some sleep-addled haze, I’d shoved my hand down his pants and grabbed his...

“Oh my god.” I groaned, fresh mortification washing over me in another scalding wave.

What the hell had I been dreaming about? Actually, that part wasn’t hard to figure out. My subconscious had clearly decided to take my overwhelming attraction to Jack and run with it, leading to the most embarrassing moment of my adult life.

I stopped at a red light and dropped my forehead against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths to calm the panic racing through my system. Jack’s face flashed in my mind. He hadn’t looked angry or disgusted. Just surprised. Maybe even a little...interested?

No. That was impossible.

Sure, Jack cared about me. The notes proved that.

And maybe he even liked me as more than an employee or fake girlfriend.

But there was no way he was actually attracted to me.

Not that way. Men who looked like Jack, with their perfect bodies and chiseled jaws, didn’t desire women like me. That wasn’t how the world worked.

The blaring horn behind me jolted me back to reality. The light had turned green. I pressed my foot to the gas.

What was I going to do now? I had to see Jack every day at work. Sit across from him in meetings. Continue our fake relationship charade in front of my family. How could I possibly face him knowing I’d basically molested him in my sleep?

The complete disaster that was my life right now overwhelmed me.

I’d gone from having a perfectly professional relationship with my boss to sleeping on his couch, hand wrapped around his morning wood, in the span of a few weeks.

If I didn’t handle this carefully, I’d end up unemployed and heartbroken.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, I’d formulated a plan.

It wasn’t a good plan. In fact, it was probably the most cowardly plan possible: avoid Jack until I could trust myself around him again.

Keep things strictly professional when interaction was unavoidable.

Pretend nothing happened. Like I said, it wasn’t a good plan.

I sat in my car for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts before heading inside.

The clock on my dashboard read 6:17 AM. With a pathetic sigh, I grabbed my things and eased out of the car.

With any luck, Emily would still be asleep, sparing me the interrogation about why I hadn’t come home last night.

Because fuck knows, I could not face that right now.

The front door creaked as I eased it open, making me wince. I slipped off my fuzzy slippers and padded in my socks across the entryway, holding my breath as I passed Emily’s closed bedroom door. When I finally reached my room, I exhaled in relief, closing the door softly behind me.

I leaned against it, sliding down until I sat on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. The enormity of my feelings for Jack crashed over me. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself he was just being kind, just fulfilling our arrangement. My heart refused to listen to reason.

But I couldn’t risk ruining everything. I couldn’t risk the humiliation of Jack gently explaining that while he liked me as a friend, he wasn’t physically attracted to me. I wouldn’t survive it.

So yeah, avoiding him was the only possible solution. At least until I could look at him without remembering the feel of him hard in my hand, the low groan that had escaped his lips, the sleepy heat in his eyes before reality had crashed down on us both.

Jesus fuck. I buried my face in my hands and let the tears finally fall.