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“So then tell me to get out,” she yells at me.
I go quiet.
I’m not saying that to her. Is she out of her god damn mind? I could never...
Fucking hell.
“See?” she says.
“Payton. Open the door,” I say more gently.
It takes her about thirty seconds, but she does, and I glance down at her beautiful hurt face.
“If it was up to me, I would....”
Wake up with you every day and make you eggs. Bathe you. Make love to you. Watch you sleep as your beautiful lips flutter.
I can’t say any of those things.
“Tell me why,” she asks, brushing away a tear.
“My father has resigned.” I reach out and tug my t-shirt she is wearing, and she trips her way closer to me. “In a few months, he’ll step down and his replacement will be announced.”
“You.” Payton nods. “I get it. You have big responsibilities.”
I shake my head.
“No, sweetheart. I have to apply like everyone else. Part of proving myself is not sleeping with the women we do business with.” I curse. “And yes, I’ve done a bit of that.”
“A lot. I heard the rumors.”
God damn. How does everyone know?
“So sleeping together puts both our futures at risk,” she says, nodding at the floor.
I lift her chin. “Yes. With substantial implications.”
Payton lets out a sigh, and I pull her against my chest, where she rests her head.
“No one can know. No one,” I say into her hair.
She nods against my chest as I fight the urge to ask her to wait for me.
It would be ten weeks.
But I don’t date. I’ve never had a relationship and there is every chance I will wake up tomorrow and be cured of the Payton-itis that I’ve had the past two weeks.
She straightens and runs her hand up over my chest and then cups my face.
“At least we had this,” she says with a sad smile.
A pain I’ve never felt before slices through my chest and all I can do is kiss her forehead.
“Get dressed and I’ll drive you home.”
