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I remove my coat and boots, eager to remove the tight skirt Damon kept staring at whenever he finished with a meeting today and stood outside his office.
The feels. The feels he gives me.
I’m in a long black T-shirt when I find Harvey in his chair in the kitchen. He’s placing a slice of pizza on a plate.
“Oh, you ordered pizza...” My voice falters when I realize there isn’t any more left. He ate it all himself?
“Claire left... I wasn’t sure if you were working late or not.” He doesn’t say it with anger or disdain. He pushes the plate closer to me on the kitchen island. “Take it.”
Because I’m starving and I didn’t have lunch, I don’t second-guess his offer. I sit on the counter and sip a can of Mountain Dew.
“How was your day?”
My eyes narrow at the question, thinking about his anger toward me this morning. Suddenly my defenses are up, my walls are up, and I’m pondering why he’s being nicer, why he’s still here.
Usually, he’d be gone to his room already.
“What’s wrong?”
He looks away, and his Adam’s apple moves. I place the pop can next to me, and my feet touch the ground, making my way to him. I kneel in front of him, holding his hand. And I know something must be really, really wrong if he doesn’t push me away.
“What’s wrong, Harv?”
He refuses to look at me. “We kissed... Claire and I.”
My world stops. There’s no logical reasoning for this knowing what I’ve been doing with Damon.
Yet my world stops. Spinning. My mind. Is staggering.
Out. Of. Control.
No.
I release his hand and stand up like he burned me. I should tell him about Damon; now is a good time. I really should. We both cheated. ..
“Who kissed who first?”
He shakes his head, his thumb and forefinger playing with his eyebrows. “She did. I didn’t stop it.”
There’s venom. There’s venom deep in my throat and it’s burning. I feel as if I’m shaking except as I stare at my hands, I realize that they’re not.
Did she give him a simple peck? Or was it more passionate than that? Like what I did with Damon? Was there a lot of touching involved?
How did things get like this?
“She’s fired.” The words stumble out of me—without any sense of filtering beforehand—and I know how much of a hypocrite they make me.
“No. No, she’s not.” He shakes his head. “She’s not fired, she’s the best I ever had.”
I want to drop to my knees and rock back and forth like a stupid baby. Because I don’t know if he means the best nurse or the best, simply the best, as in girl, girlfriend, lover.
I walk to my room to run, run, run, from my problems. I’mso good at it, why stop now? Until a question burns at the tip of my tongue.
I whirl around. “What does she have that I don’t?” I whisper, my voice quivering withneed.
I’m giving up on us. I feel it in the deepest part of my spirit.
“What?”
