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“No, obviously not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I just can’t help but object to the fact that you would’ve done … what we did … with just anyone.”
“I didn’t mean I would’ve done all the stuff with anyone. I was talking about compatibility. I meant I would’ve worked with whoever I was with to survive,” he says. “But even so, I don’t want to lead you on here. I need to make it really clear that whatever we’re doing here isn’t going to become a permanent thing.”
Oh, that hurts. It really hurts so much more than it should. “Good,” I say, shrugging. “Because that’s the last thing I’d want. The entire thing is actually making me feel pretty icky, because I’m basically betraying my work family.”
Ha! His head snapped back a little when I said the word ‘icky.’ It’s his turn to feel hurt. “Well, I wouldn’t want that.”
“Neither would I. They’re everything to me.”
I turn away from him and keep climbing, grabbing hold of a branch to help pull me up, then letting it go so it snaps back.
“Ouch.”
“Oh, did I get you?” I ask, over my shoulder. “Sorry about that.” Not sorry, actually. That felt fucking great.
“Look, I get that you’re embarrassed about what happened. I’m embarrassed too. But turning on each other isn’t going to help anything.”
Damn him for being so reasonable when I want to fight. “I’m not turning on you. I’m just…” Hurt. “In a bad mood. Ignore me. And don’t worry about it. I’m not interested in marrying you or having your babies. I’m not hurt that you don’t want to do that either. I’m fine. I’m just grumpy right now and want to go home.”
“Okay, good. Because the last thing I’d want is to hurt your feelings,” he says. “I really like you, Gwen.”
Oh, come on. Do not say stuff like that. Please. My heart can’t take it. “I know. I’m on your tiny list of people you admire.”
“You really are.”
“I’m honored,” I say, my tone bordering on sarcastic.
“I don’t expect you to be honored, but I do want you to believe me, because it’s true.”
“I believe you.”
“I hope so. If I were someone else—someone who wanted to be in a committed relationship—I’d definitely pick someone like you.”
Bastard. “You know what? You really shouldn’t say things like that.”
“I shouldn’t compliment you?”
“No, you shouldn’t. I know you think you’re being nice, but it’s really quite mean.”
“Quite mean?”
“Yeah. Really quite mean. Because that’s the sort of compliment that can make a girl think something more is possible than what’s possible.”
He grabs my arm and I spin around, slipping a little in the mud, but he steadies me. My heart pounds in my chest and I want nothing more than for him to kiss me and tell me he does want more. Even though there are other people just up ahead. Even though this whole situation is crazy and he’s wearing his business partner strapped to his chest for God’s sake. I want it anyway.
But he doesn’t. Narrowing his eyes at me, he says, “But you don’t want more to be possible.”
Lifting my chin, I say, “No, I don’t.”
“So then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that you’re a tease.”
“I’m a tease?” he scoffs. “I believe I’ve delivered on any and all teasing.”
