13. Chapter 13 #2
I sigh. This conversation isn’t going to end anytime soon unless I try to steer things away from Italy. “I figured you were on their email list or something because of Dani. And if I’m being honest, I was kind of distracted.” How is that supposed to help?
Scoffing, Avery waves her arm over me. “Too busy flirting with the first random girl you bumped into?”
The question feels like a slap in the face.
Is that what she thought that was? Did she miss the parts where I told her how interesting she was, how beautiful, how fascinating to watch when she found something that caught her attention?
“Flirting with a woman who interested me, yes,” I admit, “but we both knew it was a fling and wouldn’t go beyond last week. That’s over now.”
Now it’s Avery’s turn to look slapped, and she sinks back into her chair. “So that’s it?” she asks, her voice thin. “We have this magical week in Florence, and now we pretend it never happened?”
I swear under my breath, rubbing my jaw as the memory of her lips on mine hits me hard. Magical is a pretty apt descriptor, though it’s not one I would have chosen on my own. “That’s it.”
“What if I don’t agree?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not still attracted to me.”
She needs to stop. She needs to stop being bold and passionate and fiery because every time she pushes back and shows me she’s stronger than she looks, it makes the attraction that much worse.
And I can’t be attracted to her. Not now that I know who she is.
Attraction will only lead to disaster. “I’m not doing this, Avery.
” My words come out somewhere between a sigh and a growl because a large part of me is mapping out the difference between the woman in front of me right now and the one who demurely explained her ex’s terrible marketing plans.
She’s different when he’s around, and not in a good way. I want to fix that.
But I can’t.
Her eyes glisten with tears, but anger seems to hold them back. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my boss.”
“That’s not true, nor is it a good enough reason.”
I knew it wouldn’t be. “Because of Eric then.”
“Eric?” She looks out the open door, but their office is small enough that I’m assuming Eric went outside, or we would have heard his phone conversation.
“Yes. Things between us”—I gesture from her to me—“are a lot more complicated now that he’s a part of this.”
“Feel free to elaborate,” she grinds out, glaring at me.
I’d rather not, but she’ll keep pushing if I don’t give her a good enough reason to let Italy go. “I may have stolen his girlfriend in college.”
Her glare softens in her surprise. “That was you ?”
“Ah, so he didn’t tell you that part of the story?” Lucky me. “I’m guessing that means he didn’t tell you about how she cheated on me less than a week later.”
“He did tell me that, actually. But what does a relationship over a decade ago have to do with anything?”
I’m regretting this conversation with every passing second. Does she really want me to lay it all out for her? Isn’t it obvious? “I’m not going to make moves on someone my friend was going to marry.”
“The moves have already been made, Benson,” Avery says sharply, but her face blossoms with crimson as if she’s remembering the kisses we shared. Just like I am. “You can’t pretend Italy didn’t happen.”
Oh, but I want to. I want to put this all behind me and do my job and forget how deeply difficult it was to leave this woman behind.
“And Eric and I broke up ,” she adds, as if that settles it.
“Barely,” I counter. I don’t know how long it’s been—Eric didn’t mention ever being engaged when we were catching up this morning—but I have some pretty clear reasons to think the breakup was recent.
“You can’t tell me there aren’t still feelings between the two of you, because you were crying over the guy when we first met. ”
Avery gasps, but she doesn’t have an argument. She never said if the breakup was mutual or if he made the choice for her. With Eric, it could have gone either way. “So it’s okay for you to flirt with some other guy’s ex, but not Eric’s?” she asks, shaking her head. “Really classy, Benson.”
“No one said I was perfect,” I grumble. I didn’t expect the sting of her judgment, and I don’t like it. How can she not understand that this is totally different from flirting with a stranger?
Swallowing, she looks down at her hands, and it’s only now that I notice she’s wearing the bracelet I bought her. “I did,” she whispers, sending a wave of guilt over me.
“Sorry about that,” Eric says, whirling into the room and plopping back into his chair. “I swear, our printer is the literal worst, and I’m so glad we’re switching to a different company. Did you guys get some good discussion going?”
We sure did, though maybe good isn’t the right word for it. At least now I can say with certainty there won’t be any tension between Avery and me anymore. Not the good kind, anyway.
I’m more disappointed about that than I should be.