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“I’m not a good man, Gemma. And I’m sure as hell not the one you’ll end up happily married to.”
Then who is? Harvey?
He can’t even look me in the eyes three-hundred and fifty days of the year.
“What happened to you?” I ask quietly. It’s so quiet, everyone is gone for the night. It’s past ten o’clock, and I know that I should head home.
“The question is”—he stares into my eyes—“why would a twenty-four-year-old act like she’s stuck in an unmarried relationship rather than leaving it?”
His question hits me like a wall of moving bricks. It has some truth to it—because I’m stuck—and I’m not sure what’s the right way out. It saddens me to think about a future with Harvey that’s similar to our present.
I shake my head, gawking at him.
He probably knows my age from the background check he performed upon hiring me. He’s so gorgeous, no wonder Abby was all over him. He really is a sight to behold.
His hand holds me roughly at my nape, and I want that kiss he almost gave me earlier. I’m not sure that I can do this to Harvey. To myself.
“Can you do this? Just sex? No feelings what... so... ever.” He’s whispering close to my lips, and my head is tilting up despite his grip on my neck.
“Yes...” The word catches in my throat. Unconvincing. At this point I’m not sure if I’m hesitating because of Harv or because I’m afraid I’ll develop feelings for Damon, the man I admire, the man who drives me nuts by day and drives me to the brink of orgasm by night.
My mind is telling me this is a mistake. But my body betrayed me the moment I set eyes on him. The first time I heard his voice. At the first touch from his hands.
There’ssomethingabout Damon. I don’t quite know how to explain the hold he has pulling me over to him.
I want more. It wants more.
“Think about it.” He releases me, and I want to cry out in pain, hating the distance he placed between us.
“Be there in a few with her keys,” he says into his phone after answering a call. He ends it just as quickly. “That was my driver.” He answers my unspoken question. “Time to go home.”
I want to protest.
Instead, like always, I shy away from voicing it. I get my purse from my desk and put on my winter coat and over-the-knee boots.
It’s quiet on the way home.
We don’t talk. We don’t touch. We don’t even look at each other.
His proposition flows through my mind as I mentally list the pros and cons.
Most of my cons involve Harvey, safe for my job.
Harvey. Harvey. Harvey.
I want to tell Damon to drop me off one neighborhoodaway from my house. But I don’t. Because if Harvey’s up, which I doubt, he could see the driver pull up with our van anyway. And doing so would enlarge the lie.
More than lying to Harvey, I’m lying to myself.
About what I want. About whom I want.
“Thanks for the ride.” He nods, and it hits me then that he never asked me about the modified van.
I’m about to leave when he grabs my hand. “Will you think about it?” I can’t get a read on him, on his question. Will I think about having sex with him? More than I usually do every night?
Of course I will.
But we both know this time it’s different. It’s not simply touches and unyielding strokes. It’s real. It’s bringing my fantasies to life. It’s betraying Harv and everything we ever fought for. It’s ruining us. And maybe even me.
