Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“There won’t be a next time!” I pause. “Will there be? Oh god, I don’t—”
“If you’re going to keep rambling like a drunken gnome, you can call me back once you’ve calmed the fuck down.” Delilah has zero sympathy for my turmoil.
“I’m calm!” I shout.
Delilah pauses for several moments. “You were never like this before,” she observes. “Not with Todd. Not with anyone.” She lets me sit with that knowledge for a full minute in silence.
She’s right. I’ve never been like this with anyone, because nobody has ever twisted me up in knots like Asher fucking Lawrence has.
Todd was pleasant and I enjoyed spending time with him, but he was more like a valued friend that I happened to occasionally kiss and sleep with than a lover.
I was never terrifically turned on by him, and the sex was pretty mediocre.
Mainly, I slept with him because I knew it was meaningful to him—not because I had a terrible urge to.
I appreciated his company and was mildly saddened when we parted ways.
The same goes for the boyfriends I had in high school, and a few stragglers I went on dates with in my early days of college. Nobody has ever set me on fire the way Asher does.
Nobody’s been as mean to me, either, but I know his anger is a defense mechanism.
“Delilah, I think I might be fucked,” I admit quietly. “I’ve never felt this… invigorated before. Never this challenged and stimulated.”
“Well, that certainly makes one of us,” Delilah sighs. “Is it bad that I’m getting bored of my job already? It’s so… corporate. I thought it would be exciting, but even hostile takedowns are boring.”
“Delilah, focus. I’m having a breakdown over here.”
“You’ll be fine,” she says pitilessly. “At least your life is interesting. The only interesting part of mine…” she trails off.
My ears perk up, like a Doberman’s when it’s time for a hunt. There’s something in her tone, something morose that I don’t like. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she recovers. “Anyway, keep whatever you have with Asher on the downlow until it’s serious.”
“Ahem.”
“My mistake, if it becomes serious.” I can practically hear her eye-roll. “You need to get over your confidence issues.”
That feels like a slap to the face. “What? I’m perfectly self-confident!”
“No, you’re not,” Delilah disagrees. “You try to be and you’re good at faking it, but you’ve got some serious scars, sis.
From school. From your parents. From your hundred siblings.
” She pauses, while I reel as if she’s knocked the breath out of me.
“Don’t let fear hold you back from getting what you want. It won’t do you any favors.”
“I… I am confident,” I say, but this time the words come out as a question.
But I’m not. Not really. All of the times I’ve come in second-best constantly haunt me.
My sperm-donor disinheriting me before I was born.
My scholarship going to another student after I’d accepted it.
Stallion passing me up for a nepo-hire.
“And I’m the future president,” Delilah volleys back. “You’ve got major abandonment issues which have slowly killed the way you value yourself. I clocked them when I first met you. That’s why you settled for Todd. He was there, he liked you, and he was convenient—and he complimented you.”
I have no good response for that. I’m too busy trying to mentally discredit her… and realizing I can’t.
“In the meantime, work on your nerdy system thing,” she recovers. “How’s that going, by the way?”
I’m so grateful for the topic change, I don’t argue. Anything’s better than considering the validity of her words. I give her a brief, general breakdown of my progress.
“Hmm,” she hums once I’m done. “Once it is ready and in working order, you’ll need to license it.”
A lump forms in my throat. I refuse to give much thought to what I’ll do once it’s done, because all of my energy has gone into making sure it can be done. I think today proved that it’s feasible and close to being complete—as soon as I figure out the fucking emotions part of it. And then what?
“How… do I go about that, again?”
“That’d be licensing and contract law. Which happens to be one of my specialties.” Delilah delicately clears her throat. “Aside from licensing, I assume you’ll need investors?”
I pause. “I guess. But… for what?”
“For turning a bunch of techy bullshit into a licensable software, idiot.” She sighs. “I feel like you’re supposed to know this.”
“Hey, I graduated with an engineering degree, not a business one.” I push a hand through my hair, a renewed flutter of nerves making me jittery. At least they’re not about Asher this time around.
The sheer number of things I need to figure out personally and professionally is overwhelming. I don’t know where to start—I have no real relationship experience, or at least no experience navigating such intense attraction, and my business know-how is completely nonexistent.
“Lucky for you, you have a friend that makes a living on exploiting loopholes and taking people’s money,” Delilah says.
“Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll see what I can do.
In the interim, pull your head out of your ass.
Go get Asher if that’s what you want, or don’t if it isn’t.
And, for god’s sake, finish the algorithm you’ve been talking about for years. ”
She hangs up on me.