Page 62 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)

CYNTHIA

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Everything had occurred so quickly.

The offer, my notice, the showings. My rental car crunched over the potholed road leading to my hotel, and I shaded my eyes against the late afternoon sunshine.

Winter in Texas was hot and I missed New York.

The cherry blossoms would start blooming soon on Park Avenue as the city emerged from hibernation.

Soon, the afternoons would lengthen and we would enjoy long walks home from dinner and drinks outdoors with friends.

But this spring would have been different, because I now knew what it was like to be part of a twosome. And I wanted more. Now, I understood why Margo and Andrew spent every waking second together. I had never been that aligned with someone, until Jason.

I imagined that I was driving back to our rental house in Booth.

Jason would be at home, his shirt sleeves rolled up over those capable forearms, just getting dinner started.

I’d open the door to a glass of wine and his breathtaking smile.

My chest felt like it would cave in at the thought.

Hadn’t I said he would be the perfect husband?

And you let that go. No, he had chased me away.

But what if walking away from him is the worst possible thing you could do?

Hadn’t everyone in his life walked away? My breaths seized, and I pulled over .

Was this my fault? No. I let my head drop onto the steering wheel.

I was taking my dream job. He was the one who refused to change, who had laughed at me for thinking I was worth more than one night.

But had he believed it? I chewed my lip.

A tiny part of me thought maybe he didn’t.

Maybe he was pushing me away before I could push him away.

He still refused to compromise, though. My words about his refusal to take one step toward me still held true.

Or did they? My traitorous conscience whispered.

What about the dinners he made you? The dates he took you on?

The way he bared his soul? The way you connected in bed?

I was pretty sure he didn’t cook for other women.

And it sounded like I was the first woman since his girlfriend years ago to get more than one night, and a window into the things he liked in bed.

I thought back to the way he’d held himself still when he’d told me about his desire to sub.

He’d been so tense. And here I was, running.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, I was certain that his words in the conference room had been bravado.

What had he told me? That there were parts of him he didn’t let others see?

He was the king of building walls, of putting on a mask.

He’d lowered those walls for me, and then built them right back up again.

My stomach bottomed out. This might be my fault.

Which meant Jason Elliott was worth another chance. If I hadn’t ruined everything.

Fuck . I put the car back in drive and drove to the motel.

When I turned the key and pushed open the door to an empty room, I wished he were there to fill it.

I fell asleep wishing he were with me in the bed, and I woke wishing he were there beside me doing our awkward bathroom dance.

My chest ached every time I remembered his hot eyes and his intensity.

Had I given up the very best thing to happen to me?

Maybe, maybe. Every beat of my heart told me I would regret this forever.

I stared up at the apartment building. It was surprisingly modern, and the apartments appeared to be a decent size from the outside.

The bushes flanking the entrance were well-maintained and there was lots of parking.

I frowned at the reminder that I would be buying a car and driving it everywhere.

Maybe I would have to start working out to make up for the missed walking. I shuddered.

The real estate agent was meeting me here, and I followed the directions to the apartment, keying in the code and proceeding to a shiny elevator. So far, it felt like a high-end hotel and my heart lifted. I can do this.

The door to 10L was ajar when I arrived.

Weird. I didn’t want to barge in. And the agent wasn’t answering my texts.

The New York City rental market was rife with shadiness, so I wasn’t shocked.

Better luck next time. I sighed and turned to go.

A noise came from inside the apartment. Maybe someone is here after all?

I pushed open the door. “Hello?” I called. “Anyone in there?”

“I think you’re going to need something bigger. I’m going to need an office.” I took two steps toward the voice before my brain caught up to my body and I stumbled.

“Jason?” Surely I’m mistaken. He’s not here.

He came into view and my heart thumped. He was so impossibly beautiful, dressed in slacks and a slightly rumbled white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His eyes were electric and his expression honed in on me.

My whole body prickled under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I want you back,” he said simply and took one step toward me.

I backed away like an animal scenting a predator.

I shook my head. “You want me to quit this job. I won’t, Jason, I won’t do it.

Stop trying to change me.” My voice was breaking and my back hit the kitchen island.

He advanced on me, his eyes soft, and I shook my head.

“This is painful enough without seeing you here, looking all perfect, so stop, just stop—” My breaths were coming short and my throat was tight .

He crowded me, lifting one hand to cradle my cheek, and I closed my eyes at the feel of his rough palm. So delicious. So not for me.

“I’m not asking you to change,” he said. My eyes flew open. “I’ll do all the changing, sweetheart.” He gave me a gentle smile.

“Can we talk somewhere that isn’t here? Please?” he asked. His eyes were pleading, and I gave a jerky nod. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

I followed him numbly out the door and into his car. What is he doing here?

When we were finally in the enclosed space, the faint hints of his cologne, his shower products, and his skin filled my nose with their scents and made my head fuzzy. I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder. He’s not yours anymore. My chest ached.

“Jason.” My voice was unsteady. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to drive and explain, and when I get to the end, you can decide whether you want me? Okay?” He gave me a small smile.

I blew out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“I told you I had foster families, but I never told you why.” He took a deep breath and turned right.

“My mom was a drug addict. My dad disappeared when I was just eighteen months old. I heard this all from my first foster family, mind you, and I don’t remember much of my time with my parents.

But when my dad left, my mom got worse, until she was told to clean up her act, or they would take me away from her.

And she couldn’t.” Another deep breath. My heart cracked a little.

“The grip of the drugs was too strong. She didn’t have enough support, she had no resources. So they took me.” He turned left, his face bleak. Oh, Jason.

“And I know now that, of course, she couldn’t stop doing drugs, not without a family, or money, or a job,” he continued.

It was too much of an uphill battle for her.

But for years, I told myself it was because I wasn’t enough.

And when my first foster family, the only ones I ever really cared for, kicked me out, I told myself I still wasn’t enough.

That hardened me. It was the first time I thought that everyone was destined to leave me.

And I guess—” He cleared his throat. “I guess I never stopped believing that.” His voice was thick as he turned into the driveway of a neat little house.

Tears tracked down my face at his words.

He shut the engine off and we got out of the car, the cool air drying the moisture on my cheeks. He came around the front of the car, a rueful smile on his face.

“Jason, I’m sorry.” I left him. I hurt him like everyone else did.

I felt sick. “I’m so, so sorry. I realized once I arrived here that you’d been trying to change for me this entire time.

I guess I’m a little fucked up too. I keep waiting for my dreams to be taken from me, and I thought you were asking me to give them up for you.

I vowed never to do that for a man, so I pushed you away. ”

His eyes were soft. “I would never ask you to give up your dreams,” he said. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

His words made the tears fall harder, until his outline was blurry.

“I know you are. And I’m so ashamed of how I ran.

I should have told you that I choose you, that of everyone you’ve known, I wouldn’t be the one to leave you.

That you could count on me.” My voice shook.

“I should have asked you to come with me.”

“Ask me now,” he said thickly.

“But you hate small towns. I would never do that to you—”

“Ask. Me.” His blue eyes were electric.

“Jason, will you move to Texas with me?”

“Yes.” He gave a short nod and then he was there, pulling me to his chest as I shook.

“You didn’t let me finish my apology,” he murmured.

“Having you, and then having you ripped away… This past week has been the worst week of my life. Those weeks in the rental house were probably the best. I’m sorry for that day in the conference room.

And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry if you ever thought I didn’t want you or that I wanted you to change.

” My heart was pounding at his words. He pulled back and tilted my head up so lake-blue eyes met mine. Soft, serious, perfect.

He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “If you let me, I’ll spend every day forcing you to take things for yourself. Making you share your burdens with me. Say you want this.” His eyes were shadowed with need, with doubt .

Hope flared in my chest and spread, until my whole body was alive. “Jason,” I whispered. “Every night in that rental house, I thought to myself that one day a very lucky girl would get to keep you. I ached to be that girl. If you want me, I’m all in.”

“I love you.” He crushed me against his chest.

“I love you too,” I murmured the words into his neck. “I love you, Jason Elliott. I want all your fucked-up parts and your cooking skills and the hot stuff you like in bed. Give it all to me.”

“Good. It’s yours.” And then he kissed me—a soul-searing, heart-wrenching kiss—his lips slipping perfectly over mine, in tiny sips and then languid draws.

His heart thumped against my chest, every steady beat reverberating through me.

He cradled my face like it was precious, but the fervor with which he pressed his lips to mine said he was desperate for me.

I pressed against him and kissed him back with equal ferocity.

He inhaled at the contact. Mine, mine, mine . This beautiful, amazing man was mine.