Page 81 of Forced Proximity

‘Did something happen with your boss? Your parents? Do you need to check your blood sugar?’ I’m no longer soothing and instead enter full-on panic mode. She can’t leave. I’m not ready for this to end. ‘Do you need money? You can have whatever you need. Just tell me what it is, and I promise we’ll figure it out.’

Another strangling sob escapes. She plucks a few tissues from the box on the side table and wipes her nose. ‘I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t have anything happen to you.’

Oh God. Those words, that tone. I feel it. This isn’t a bodyguard worrying about her client. She cares about me. Christ, I wish I could take this moment, absorb it, let it fill me the way that I need, but now is not the time. Should I pull her into me again? I’ll do almost anything to feel her wrapped in my arms. ‘Nothing is going to happen to me.’

She exhales a trembling, shaky breath. ‘It could have.’ She stares at her hands as her breathing evens. The only sound in the room is the ticking of the air conditioning. Time passes. I don’t know how much. A minute, two, five? Finally, Lexi swipes a pinkie under her eyes to catch remaining moisture and her shoulders slacken. ‘Four years ago, I was assigned to an environmental CEO. An amazing woman. Right before I left the building to escort her, I was on the phone, arguing with Katey. And I was … distracted.’

I want to hold her hand, but stay still. ‘Okay. Can you tell me more?’

A fat tear rolls down her cheek and she swipes it with her thumb. ‘I didn’t see the guy. It was my job to see him, and I didn’t fucking see him. When the shot hit me, then her … I … I thought I lost her.’

‘You got shot?’ Heat flushes to my face and a primal urge to confirm she’s okay tears through me. My eyes travel her body, looking for distress. Someone shot her? Rage, sickness, sadness, everything swirls. How the hell did I not know this?

‘My shoulder. It shattered my collarbone.’ She taps the side of her left arm. ‘But she got hit. The CEO. And it was my fault. I was distracted. I missed it. And she could’ve died.’

I need to take away this pain. She’s blaming herself for a tragedy, an act of violence, and it’s not fair. I grab her hand and swipe my thumb across her knuckles. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

She shakes her head. ‘It was absolutely my fault. I was so wrapped up in what was happening with Katey that I missed it.’

What I would give to cup her face, drag her eyes to mine and confirm she can hear me. ‘No, it wasn’t.’ I drop her hand and inch closer. ‘The only person who’s at fault was the shooter. Not you. Just like tonight. Whatever happened was not your fault.’

She pushes her fingertips into her temples and inhales a staggered breath. When she glances back at me, mist fills her eyes again. ‘I need you to do something for me.’

‘Anything.’ And I mean it. Right now, my heart is filling in an inexplicable way. I want to protect her, help her, smother her. Hold her.

‘This is really hard for me to say.’ Blotchy patches of pink stain her cheeks from the tears. She tugs the pillow into her lap and laces her fingertips through the thread. ‘But I crossed a line with you that I should’ve never crossed. I got emotionally attached. It’s not good, it’s not professional, and if something happened … I’d never forgive myself. So, whatever this is,’ She points between her chest and mine, ‘it needs to stop.’

My heart sinks. She can’t mean this, right? This needs to stop? What part of this? No joking around, no workouts, no friendship? Right now, emotions are high. She’s reliving a terrible event from the past, projecting it on me and probably isn’t thinking clearly. That’s all it is. That’s all it can be.

‘Promise me,’ she says, her voice throaty and firm. ‘Please. This ends tonight.’

I pull my lips into my mouth and tell her what she needs to hear. ‘I promise.’

But I already know I’ll break this promise.

Chapter 37

Justin

For the next few days while Lexi is benched, I give her the space she needs. She’s replaced by two guys who cover her days off, so it doesn’t feel completely foreign, but by day three, I’m itchy, missing her and need confirmation of life. On the patio, I pick up my phone. I set it down. Pick it up. Set it down. Christ. I tug on my chin and take a breath. What’s wrong with me? Me and Lexi text all the time, especially on her days off. This should be easy. Near meaningless.

I tap my thumbs against the screen.

Justin: Since you have time off, and you’re not technically working, want to come over watch a movie? Jack is the worst movie watching partner. He doesn’t get any of the jokes.

A few days of no talking and this is the brilliant message I send. But what else am I supposed to do? Tell her that I miss her? That I hate being in the house without her? That I think about her at a truly unhealthy level?

She said whatever is going on, it needs to stop. And I heard her. I really did. But, what if I gave this up? I would. For a life with Lexi, I would walk away from the movies. We could move to Minnesota, buy a farm, get some chickens, have a quiet life. My priorities have shifted, and things I once thought were important are now inconsequential. I’m booked out on projects for the next eighteen months, scripts are sent to me weekly, and I rarely even have to read for a director anymore unless it’s one of the big ones. For the last few years, all of this brought me comfort. But now, I want more. I need more. It just took until recently to realize that I won’t find what I need on a film set.

I stare at my phone. No bubbles appear, no messages pop up, nothing. I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I’m not flirting. I’m absolutely respecting her statement that whatever’s happening between us needs to be buried. But she can’t mean our friendship, right? Watching movies is a friend thing. Not a date.

For an hour, I wait. I walk away, come back, hold my breath, brush my teeth, sit at the edge of the bed, confirm the message was delivered and nothing.

Finally, my phone buzzes.

Lexi: Not a good idea.

The rejection stings more than it should. A bite that spreads, infecting everything around it, making me burn. God, she’s so hot and cold, impossible to read, and any time I open up a fraction, she shoots me down. But holding her on the floor when she cried, being what Lexi – this phenomenally strong, independent, incredible woman – needed, filled me in a way I never thought possible. I finally started healing from the memory of not protecting Mia.