31. Chapter 31
31
A Defense Mechanism
“I can’t believe this has happened twice now,” I say to my coworker across the conference room table.
My coworker also being my roommate, fuck buddy, and possible man I’m having feelings for, more than the normal feelings of disgust, annoyance, and hatred. They’ve morphed into something else—something I can’t put my finger on.
It must be the sex clouding my brain. That’s the only thing I can think of. His dick is holding me hostage or something, and now, I’m having all these weird feelings surrounding him and the pact we made.
“Blame Brody, but you did volunteer for this,” Leo tells me, his chin resting in his hand as he reads something.
I slam my papers down. “I did not. Brody handed it off to me as if it wasn't his fault, and you happened to walk by.”
“I guess we’re both victims of the wrong place, wrong time.”
“I guess so.”
I’d much rather be at Hads’ apartment helping her take care of Grant like I promised I would, but instead, I’m stuck here, working late, because Brody dropped the ball and failed to delegate this shit to all of us.
Grant got released over the weekend, and instead of us having book club this week, we hung out at their place and watched movies all night.
Now, Leo and I are stuck here looking over a bunch of companies interested in working with us that Brody never went over to give to Imogen at the end of the week.
It’s Thursday. Tomorrow is the end of the week, and Brody is a fucking pain in my ass.
“How many good ones do you have so far?” I ask Leo.
“Out of the ten I’ve looked at,” he shuffles through his small stack of papers, “two.”
“I have three decent possibilities out of the fifteen I’ve looked at.”
He runs a hand through his hair, and I hate that I stare at his forearms for too long. “We still have a fuck ton of them to look through, so we should get some food.”
“Sushi?” I ask, my mouth already watering at the food we had last time we stayed late to work. “It’s still open, you know.”
He only smirks in my direction. “I’m already ordering.”
I go to smile, but I stop myself. Do Leo and I have a thing now?
My alarm bells are going off in my head, wanting to retreat from this situation that feels too much like Leo and I are a couple. We’re not , I remind myself. We’re coworkers who happen to work late together a bit too much. That’s all we are, and at the end of the night, we end up across the hall from one another like we sit all day at work—only a few feet separating us.
I slump down in my chair, and the two of us work silently until he has to grab the food. I think I got through five or six proposals before it got here, and my brain is pounding in my skull.
How is it I can read a five-hundred page romance novel in one sitting and not get a headache, but a few proposals at work have me down for the count?
He sets the food on the table and returns to the same spot as last time—right next to me. I know this time isn't going to end with sex in the office since we banned it, but that makes me feel more uneasy.
We could fight, or worse—we could actually have a nice talk.
Or better yet, we could eat in silence and not say a word, but knowing us, that won’t happen.
“How’s Grant doing?”
“He’s okay. Smiling through the pain like always,” I tell him. Grant is one of the most positive people I know, Paige too. Those two could smile through anything, and I don’t know how they do it.
He was in the hospital for four days while they monitored his kidney function and made sure his body was doing alright, and when he finally left, it was on crutches.
They haven’t gone to work since the crash, and I don’t know how long Hads is going to be able to not work. I’ve offered to help in any way I can, but Grant keeps telling us he’ll be fine if Hads has to go back to work.
Jacks even offered to stop working so he could be there for him, and Grant declined.
There are some stubborn fucking men in our group—Leo included. He might be the worst of all of them.
“Did he get my fruit basket?” Leo asks me, and I nod.
“Yes, he did,” I laugh. “He wouldn't stop talking in an accent after he found out it was from you.”
Leo chuckles, knowing first hand Grant would do that.
“How is he really doing? Car accidents are no joke. There’s no way he’s this chipper all the time.”
I sigh heavily, unsure how to answer that question. “Grant uses humor to deflect from his pain, so I don’t really know how he feels. All of us were fucking freaked when Hads got the call. It was a tough night, but he practically woke up joking.”
“And how are you? Still trying to take care of everyone else before yourself?”
I scoff, knowing he’s one thousand percent right. I don’t want to admit he knows something about me. That’s not the type of relationship we have. We bicker and argue and fuck sometimes, but he doesn't get to dive into who I am underneath the surface. He doesn't get to know that version of me.
“I don’t do that,” I lie.
“Come on, Ella. It’s what you always do when someone you love is in trouble.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I told you before that I see you, Williams.” He takes a bite of his food. “The night we all went out in costumes. You dropped everything in the middle of that dance floor when you heard Paige needed help.”
“I guess I didn't expect you to notice,” I tell him as I take a sip of water.
“Just because you don’t expect it from me doesn't mean I’m not capable of it.” He looks into my eyes when he says it, and I hate that my body heats under his stare. There’s just something about the way he looks at me. He almost looks like he’s trying to work through a puzzle in his head, and I hold all the answers he needs.
I don’t like it.
“You never answered my question,” he tells me.
“I’m fine, Leo.”
“You’re lying to me, Ella. Why won’t you tell me the truth for once?”
I put my plate back on the table. “Because we don’t do this!”
“Do what?”
“Talk about our feelings! This isn't us, and it's creeping me out.”
He throws his head back and laughs at me.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Only you could turn a nice conversation into some sort of argument, Ella. I know why you do it now. It’s a defense mechanism.”
What? “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is. Every time anyone asks you about your true feelings, you either change the subject, or with me, you go right to arguing.” He stands from his chair, throwing the remains of his food in the garbage before he sits down. “Why don’t you want to tell me? Are you afraid I’m going to actually be a prick and say something rude back to you?”
“Well, it is what you always do, isn't it?”
“No, it’s not. That’s what you’ve always assumed I would do since you’ve met me.” Leo stands and towers over my chair. “Why have you always assumed that? Why did you judge who I was before you actually knew me?”
I shake my head at him. “You made it so easy, Leo. With your same old attitude of being better than everyone else and the fact that you’ve never had to work hard for anything, it wasn't difficult to get a read on who you are.”
He jolts back as if I slapped him. “And that’s just it, Ella,” his voice is low as he whispers, “you assume I don’t work hard when all I’ve done my entire life is work hard to prove myself. You just choose to not see that.”
“You get preferential treatment because you're a man and your family has incredible connections. You got into our internship with one interview, and I had multiple rounds and other shit. What the fuck would you call that?”
“That wasn't my fault, Ella. The fuckers at our internship are to blame, but for some reason, you’ve always blamed me.”
Shit. I guess he’s right. “It always seemed easier for you. I was working a job in college while doing school full-time and the internship. I was fucking exhausted all the time, and it seemed easier to have someone to blame, and I’m sorry it was you.”
“Just because I carried it well doesn't mean it’s not heavy on my shoulders as I do.”
I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out. I can’t believe the real him was in front of me this entire time, and I was too blindsided by the fact that everything seemed easier for him than it was for me. I feel like a fucking idiot. I, of all people, should know people can carry invisible scars that don’t show up on the surface.
I’m a fucking professional at that. It’s how I survived growing up. It’s how I kept going when things seemed bleak as a kid. I smiled through the pain and faked it until I eventually made it.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again. This is the first time we’re acknowledging the bickering between us, the first time I’ve truly apologized for assuming all this shit about him. I know better, yet somehow, I always refused to look past all our shit and see he wasn't the problem.
“I’m sorry too, Ella.” He sits back down and grabs one of my hands. “For pissing you off and pushing all your buttons. It’s really fucking fun for me.”
I slip my hand out of his as he laughs.
“In all seriousness, I’m sorry for hating you because you judged me so fucking quickly. I should’ve taken the time to show you who I really am rather than play these games with you.”
“It’s okay, Leo.”
And as the two of us sit and stare into each other's eyes, the low light of the conference room making his sparkle, I feel my stomach somersault.
I’m well and truly fucked, because I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from his, and I really want to kiss him right now. I don’t want to fuck him—I want to kiss him. I want to feel his lips against mine, and I can barely think straight.
“Uh, we should get back to work,” I tell him, the terror of whatever I’m feeling helping to shake me out of his fucking spell.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he says as he gets up, walking to the other side of the table and grabbing a proposal to read. I pick one up, but I suddenly can’t focus on any of the words on the page.
The conference room isn't the only thing between us anymore, because I have feelings for Leo Zimmerman, real fucking feelings that make my skin crawl thinking about them for too long.
When did he go from someone I couldn't stand to someone I wish I had more of?
Lizzie: Mom told me you don’t want to meet for dinner.
Lizzie: What happened between you guys?
Ella: She called me and it didn't go well. I’m sorry, Liz. I just can’t.
Lizzie: You said you would do this for me, Ella. You’re telling me you won’t even give her one night?
Ella: You don’t get it, sis. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I don’t think I can ever forgive her for walking out on us.
Lizzie: She’s changed, Ella. And if you don’t even want to try having her in your life, then maybe you should stop coming back here. It’s not like you didn't leave us too.
Ella: You don’t mean that, Lizzie. I know you don’t. One day, you’ll understand my side of things.
Lizzie: I’ll never understand why you can’t even give her a chance.