Page 80 of Flirting with Trouble

Fitz and I laugh.

“Fuck off. I’m as broody as ever,” Grant says, which only makes it more fun to heckle him.

“As broody as a giddy girl who just got asked to prom,” I taunt, and Grant’s eyes narrow, which makes me laugh harder.

“I’m going to worry if he starts singing ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun,’” Fitz says.

We both start singing and howling with laughter.

Grant looks like he’s got smoke coming out of his ears. “Shut the fuck up before I take you both down,” he warns, which sends us further into hysterics.

“Uh-oh,” I choke out between laughs. “I see pixie wings sprouting from his shoulders.”

“I’ll give you pixie wings.” Grant charges at us, knocking us both to the ground.

We wrestle, cracking up and calling each other names, and it almost drowns out the ache of missing Victory.

Chapter Nineteen

Victory

I pedal the spin bike faster, pushing myself harder for the last two minutes of my forty-minute ride. It’s Wednesday morning, and I’ve been at the gym since five thirty. Working out is the only thing that loosens the painful barbs in my chest, my constant companions since Friday evening. I haven’t heard from Wells. I also haven’t slept and have barely eaten, and in an effort to outrun the heartache, I dove back into the familiar and buried myself in work. Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, because I’ve also spent far too much time looking at the memories we’ve collected in that cheap little treasure box with the neon print on top.

Sweat drips down my face as I climb off the bike. I grab my towel and wipe it away. My phone chimes with a message, sending my heart into a torrent of hope, guilt, and worry. Hope that it’s a text or a WordLink invitation from Wells, guilt for the selfish thought, and worry because Leni’s wedding is this weekend, and I fear Wells will text to clarify that I’m no longer his date. I wouldn’t blame him, but I don’t know if I can take seeing it written out like that. I don’t know how I’ll face him at the wedding without falling apart. And to top it all off, I’ve been avoiding Seth, which further breaks my heart. But I can’t think about him without thinking about Wells.

I snag my phone from the holder on the bike, and the barbs in my chest tighten at the sight of another email from my London office. Of course there isn’t anything from Wells.

Why would there be? I hurt him too badly. I hurt both of us.

I’ve wanted to call him a hundred times, but how can I? What am I going to say? You’re right? I’m not ready for us? I don’t want to say that. It’s not what I feel. I’m crazy about him. But maybe I’m also a little crazy in general, because when he suggested we stay at my place, I couldn’t fathom the idea of bringing him into Harvey’s home. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to, or I don’t want him.

Ugh. I do sound crazy.

Someone taps my shoulder, drawing me from my unhappy stupor. I pull out my earbuds and turn around.

“Are you done with the bike?” a younger, bright-eyed blonde asks.

“Yes, sorry. Just give me one sec.” I wipe down the bike, and I can’t help thinking that Wells should be with someone like her. Someone younger, who doesn’t have a late husband living in her heart…or her home. “It’s all yours.”

Saying those words shouldn’t hurt, but in my messed-up head, I imagine saying He’s all yours, and that pain is too much to bear. I put my earbuds in and scroll to “Zombie” on my playlist, turning it up loud as I head to the treadmill, hoping a run will make it easier to breathe.

My day is packed with meetings, phone calls, and putting out fires. It doesn’t help that my thoughts churn like the agitator of a washing machine, whipping and shifting as I struggle to focus. Just when I think my head is clear enough to get through whatever meeting I’m in or task I’m working on, my thoughts drag me back to Wells.

In dire need of caffeine, I head to the break room. As I fix myself a cup of coffee, memories of breakfasts with Wells play in my mind like a montage. Images of him stealing a piece of fruit off my plate, flashing that coy smile, and that spark of heat in his eyes tug at my heartstrings.

“There you are,” Padma says as she walks into the room.

Those words whisper through my mind in Wells’s deep voice, bringing back the heart-melting way he looks at me when he says it.

“Time to recharge.” Padma grabs a mug from the cabinet and looks at me curiously. “You okay?”

No. I hate feeling like this.

I manage a smile. “Yeah.” Grasping for something to take my mind off Wells, I say, “I’m hearing great things about our new staff from M&O. How did the department meeting go this morning?”

“It went well.” She pours herself a cup of coffee. “The managers are up to date, and the reports look good. It was a smart move bringing them in-house.”

“We never make dumb moves.”