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“Thing?” she asks without looking up from the book she’s reading.
“Yeah, the office anniversary thing. It’s already next weekend.”
“Oh, sounds fun.” Her words are quiet, distracted. I turn in my seat to face her.
“You’ll be there too, right?”
She looks up and blinks a couple times before shaking her head.
I frown. “Why not?”
“Uh, Amelia hasn’t mentioned it to me?”
A weird oversight, considering how particular my mom is about these things.
I stand and approach her desk. “She probably forgot, there’s been a lot on her plate.”
She puts the book face down, and turns her chair to face me.
“I don’t think that’s it. I mean, why should she want me to be there?”
“Why wouldn’t she? It’s a work party. You work here…” I let the words trail off, studying her face.
She’s closed off, I can see it in her eyes. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed she does this, but I wish it could be the last.
She shakes her head. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I think she would’ve mentioned it if she wanted me to be there.” I don’t miss that her voice sounds more hoarse than it did a second ago.
“Why do you do that?” I ask quietly, and without thinking.
“Do what?”
It’s probably a bad idea, but I put my hand over hers, and trace a couple of soothing lines with my thumb. I don’t think about that either.
“You assume you’re not wanted anywhere, even with me. Your instinct is to question why someone would want to be around you.” I see moisture build in her eyes, but she blinks it away and looks down at her desk. I feel like I’m failing. “You’re my favorite person, Autumn. I always want to be around you.”
Even when I shouldn’t.
I lean in closer, pushing for her answer. If there was anyone she needed to hide from, it’s not me.
“Why,” I say again.
It’s obvious she’s battling herself. A few seconds pass, and I almost ask again, but then she shifts her focus to my hand that’s still on top of hers.
And she pulls it away so quickly, I’m stunned.
“I feel like you’re trying to make this impossible.”
“What? What did I do?”
“Your hugs, and your eyes, and your compliments, and your hand holding. You’re driving me crazy.” I watch as she buries her face in her hand and groans.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” To what, comfort her? Care about her? Of course I did.
I think the line we’ve drawn is too fuzzy. It’s even fuzzier for me after our moment in her parking lot the other night. I can’tstop thinking of those gold and green eyes piercing through me, holding me upright.
I hate that they’re being hidden from me right now.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m not trying to—”
