Chapter 45 Ruby
Ruby
Isit at my desk long after the chats go quiet.
Jaxon doesn’t come back over. He doesn’t message me. He doesn’t look my way when he walks to a meeting.
He’s giving me space.
He’s respecting the distance I created.
And somehow?
That hurts worse.
Because I miss him.
Because I want him.
Because last night felt like the beginning of something.
And I’m terrified of what that something might be.
I whisper to myself:
“I think I’m falling for him.”
And then, quieter:
“And I don’t know if I deserve it.”
I make it exactly one hour into pretending everything is normal before the panic gets too loud.
I can’t focus. I can’t breathe right. I can’t stop thinking about him.
About last night. About this morning. About how real it felt.
And about how I ran.
Eventually, I do something stupid.
I stand up.
And I walk straight to his office.
My heart is banging like a riot in my chest, but I knock anyway.
“Come in,” he says.
His voice is calm.
Too calm.
I step inside.
He looks up from his desk.
His expression is composed. Controlled. But the flicker in his eyes tells the truth:
He’s hurt. And trying very hard not to be.
I swallow hard.
“We need to talk,” I whisper.
He nods once. “Close the door.”
I do.
Then I stand there like a malfunctioning human being.
He waits.
Patient. Still. Silent.
I hate it.
“I…” I exhale shakily. “I think I messed things up.”
He tilts his head, studying me carefully.
“How?”
“By running. By… panicking. By avoiding you. By talking to Evan instead of you. By… everything.”
His jaw tightens just slightly.
“I see.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I whisper, voice breaking around the edges. “I just, last night scared me.”
“Why?” he asks quietly. “Because it was too much?”
“No.” My throat tightens. “Because it felt right.”
His expression cracks, just a hair. Enough that I feel it like a blow.
I step closer.
He watches me like he’s not sure I’ll stay.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit. “I don’t know how to fall for someone without falling apart.”
He stands. Slow. Deliberate.
“Ruby,” he murmurs, “you’re not falling apart.”
“You didn’t see me hiding behind a vending machine,” I choke out.
Something like a smile tugs at his lips, but it’s soft, sad.
“I saw you pull away.”
He steps closer.
“And I wanted to chase you,” he admits quietly. “But I didn’t want to make it worse.”
I swallow. “Why do you care so much?”
He takes another step, now close enough that I can feel the heat of him.
“Because,” he says softly, “I want you.”
I shake my head. “It’s not just want, Jaxon. You look at me like, like I matter. Like you care about me. And that terrifies me.”
His voice drops, velvet and raw:
“You do matter.”
My breath shatters.
“To you?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
I blink hard, fighting tears.
“I don’t know how to handle someone choosing me.”
His hand lifts to my face, slow, gentle, hesitant, like he’s afraid I’ll step back.
I don’t.
His thumb brushes my cheek.
“Then let me choose you slowly,” he murmurs. “One day at a time.”
A tear slips down my cheek.
He wipes it away with his thumb.
“I don’t want perfect,” he whispers. “I just want you.”
I make a sound I didn’t know I was capable of, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
“I want you too,” I breathe.
His chest rises sharply.
He steps closer.
“Then let me have you.”
My knees weaken.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
He leans in, lips brushing my cheek.
“I’ll go slow.”
He kisses the corner of my mouth.
“I’ll go at your pace.”
He kisses my jaw.
“I’ll stay if you stay.”
He lifts my chin.
“Just don’t run,” he murmurs.
I nod.
“I won’t.”
He kisses me.
Not hungry. Not rushed.
Soft. Deep. Certain.
The kind of kiss that promises something real.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on mine.
“We’re doing this,” he says quietly.
I whisper:
“Yes.”