Chapter 08
W e’re texting again, and every time my phone dings with a notification, my heart flutters.
It was awkward and clumsy at first, which makes sense. It’ll take a while to return to normal. The first few texts felt forced, but we didn’t give up. Then, she watched Back to the Future with her roommate, so she asked if I’ve ever seen it. Because I have, the conversation flowed from there.
The topic drifted from the movie to time travel, loopholes, and theories. We talked about the various schools of thought regarding temporal paradoxes, disrupting the timeline, changing the past, thus altering the future, and preventing the need to travel in the first place. The conversation was nerdy and enthralling, especially with a mind like hers. We were still talking about it by the time I went to bed.
On Sunday, she asked what other classics of cinema I’ve seen, so I did my best to give her an exhaustive list. She expected some of them but was surprised by others. Maybe I’m not such a lost cause after all, she said.
And now, it’s Monday, and I’ll see her again. For the first time since that day, I don’t enter the building with dread balling in my gut. I’m full of excitement instead of regret and self-loathing. On my way to my office, I decide to head to the breakroom. I’ll pour myself a steaming cup of black coffee, then step into the Troll’s Lair for a glimpse at her—a pick-me-up far more effective than caffeine.
It turns out I won’t need to because when I enter the breakroom, I’m greeted by a familiar silhouette and a head full of brown curls. I have to contain my excitement as I approach, eyes locked on her while she pours boiling water into her ugly dolphin mug.
“Good morning,” I greet once I’m beside her .
She freezes with the kettle midair, and she doesn’t turn to gaze up at me, but the corner of her lips lifts.
“Good morning,” she returns.
“How was your weekend?” Small talk isn’t my thing, but this isn’t small talk, is it? Never with her.
“It was … eventful.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. I met my ex’s sister.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Then I had lunch with my ex.”
“That does sound eventful.”
“It really was,” she retorts, picking up her mug and sending me a playful side look. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get to my desk before my boss thinks I’m slacking off.”
I’m confident that, had someone been in here with us, they would have realized something’s going on between us. The way my eyes linger on her as she walks away would have betrayed us. How could I not stare when she’s wearing those skin-tight jeans?
Someone steps in, and I force myself to look away from her. Coffee, work, and maybe I’ll allow myself some time in the Lair.
T his isn’t the right week to struggle with focus. Kevin and I are leaving for Seoul soon, to visit our new partner—Injin Electronics. Even though we won’t be away for long, I have things to prepare to make up for it.
And all I can think of is the petite brunette downstairs and the fact that she’s giving me another chance despite everything I did. I’ll never understand what I did to deserve it. Or to deserve her. But here we are.
She’s a stubborn little thing, isn’t she? She fights tooth and nail for what she wants. And for some reason, I’m what she wants.
How the fuck am I supposed to focus, knowing that? I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the Seoul trip, but now it’s even worse. I don’t want to be five thousand miles away, eager to return home the whole time. But I don’t have a choice.
Half an hour later, I’ve barely accomplished anything when two knocks on the door free me from my useless attempts at getting anything done. “Come in,” I command .
I’m not expecting anyone in particular, but definitely not the one that appears when the door opens. “Hi,” Andrea says with a shy grin as she steps in.
“Hi.”
“Am I interrupting?” she asks, eyeing my messy desk as she approaches.
This definitely isn’t a normal sight, so I understand her hesitation. “No, I’m trying to sort out a few things before the trip.”
“Oh, right, to meet with the Injin team… When are you guys leaving, already?” She fidgets with a paperweight on my desk, which I’ve learned is a sign of nervousness for her.
“In exactly a week,” I answer.
“Are you excited about it?”
“I’m mostly worried, to be honest. We aren’t used to letting the company fend for itself.”
“You know, we’re not totally incompetent,” she points out with a slight squint. “We can be trusted not to set the place on fire.”
“Have you met Brian and Steven?”
She lets out a bubbly laugh. “I promise I’ll keep a close eye on those two and make sure the company doesn’t sink without its captains.”
She’s made her way around the desk now, and she pensively leans back against it, half-sitting on the sharp edge of the glass surface. Clearly, we aren’t back to our former ease, and the awkward tension is quick to settle between us. I can’t wait to return to the effortless and witty conversations we used to have. I long for the nerdy banter we can pull off in texts, but apparently not in real life yet.
Can we ever get back to it? What if it’s too late? What if all the pain and hurt I caused ruined what we had?
It’s as if she’s having the same thoughts because she asks, “Do you think we can do this?”
Because she deserves more than a surface-level answer, I genuinely think about it. More than anything, I want to believe we can. I know I’ll try my hardest, and I believe she’ll do the same.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’ve never wanted to make anything work with anyone. This is all new to me, and I’m not sure how it’ll turn out. I’m still eighty percent confident you’ll eventually come to your senses and seek someone better than me. But until then, and for as long as you want me in your life, I’ll be there.”
I don’t expect her to react by raising a hand to my jaw, gently grazing the stubbled skin there. It’s as though the confidence that I lack went to her instead, and she looks down at me with assurance.
“Do you have a secret wife somewhere?” she randomly asks.
I smile at the question. “No. ”
“Are you a registered sex offender?” she wonders next. I shake my head. “A convicted felon?”
“No.”
“Do you have a weird, unsanitary fetish?”
“Definitely not.”
She removes her hand from my jaw and gives me an approving nod. “Then we’re good. Those are my hard limits.”
“Your standards are very low.”
“I’m very open-minded.”
I shake my head with a chuckle and stand from my chair. She wants to go slow, so I don’t step too close, but enough to satisfy my need for more of her. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know, little by little, and if you still want me by then, I won’t resist.”
“You already can’t resist,” she jokes, batting her lashes. “And again, nothing you could say will make me run away.”
“Wait until you know it all, then tell me again.”
She straightens up, standing a little taller, and twists so her body faces mine better. “Maybe you should lay it all on me now, so you believe me when I say I’m fine with it?”
I scan her for a moment, wondering if she can take it. “No,” I decide, lowering a little to bring my face closer to hers. “I’ll ease it into you, giving you just an inch until I know you can take it all.”
Her cheeks flush pink at the words, and I bite back a grin. “I can take it,” she breathes out. “All of it.”
“I know. But we’re going slow, remember?”
She nods and gulps nervously. Her gaze doesn’t know where to stay, oscillating between my eyes and my lips. “Ask for it,” I dare her, reminding her of my promise.
Her lips part, and I can almost taste how much she wants it. But that strength, that drive within her I love so much, has her resisting.
“Not yet,” she decides as she backs away to dispel the temptation.
Liquid fire flows through my veins, fueled by the insatiable desire that runs between us. But I ignore it and step away to give her the space she needs to heal.
“Anything else you needed, Walker?”
“No, I made up an excuse downstairs that I needed your help with a script, but I’m actually good.”
“You are?”
“Of course. I’m the script whisperer, remember?”
I answer her proud smirk with one of my own and, “How could I forget?”
She’s hesitant as she walks to the door, and before she gets there, I impulsively stop her. “Let me know if you want to have dinner or lunch before I leave for Seoul. I’d very much like to have another one of our talks.”
“I’d like that a lot, too, Lex. I’ll let you know when I’m available.”
“Good.”
We share one last look, and she opens the door to disappear back into the hallway. When I turn back to my desk, the mess on it and the reminder of what’s waiting on the screen are even less appealing than earlier.
Well, I might as well head to the Lair and see if someone needs my help because there’s no way I’ll get anything done. Not after Andrea’s visit. And I’d rather get glimpses of her than deal with numbers and estimates.
All day, every day.
W hatever we’re doing, it doesn’t feel slow. It feels very fast, actually. But I guess it is slow for us. Normally, we’d already be all over each other, fucking like wild rabbits at every chance we’d get. And it definitely felt slow when we didn’t share anything more than discreet looks and hidden smiles as he spent the day in the Lair.
So, I comfort myself by thinking we’re doing our version of slow, and it’ll have to be good enough.
But anyone else’s slow probably wouldn’t involve texting him after work, like I can’t go an hour without him. Tami’s sitting next to me, halfway into her rewatch of Scandal , so I’m being sneaky about it, angled away from her so she can’t see my screen.
Me
By the way, you’re taking me to lunch on Thursday.
Alexander
I am?
Me
Yes. And we’re taking your car because it’s a couple of miles away.
Alexander
So we’re sure no one from Kelex is watching from a corner? You’ve mastered the art of sneaking around with your boss.
I smile broadly at that, amused by the way he thinks.
Me
It’s not because of that. I’m taking you to a Mexican food truck. It’s about time I introduced you to my people’s cuisine.
Alexander
We’re driving to a food truck?
Me
Yeah, why?
Alexander
You do see the irony of driving to a restaurant that was purposefully built on wheels so it could come to people, right?
This time, I giggle at his reasoning. To be honest, he isn’t entirely wrong.
Me
This one’s worth the drive. They were in a magazine a couple of months ago. Most authentic Mexican food you can get this far north of the border.
Alexander
Alright, I’m sold. However, I have to say I’m much more into Mexican American. Heavenly flavors, if I recall correctly.
My cheeks heat at his very obvious flirting, and my hand flies up to cover my shocked smile. Again, this isn’t slow, but I couldn’t care less right now.
I’m still recuperating from his text when my phone buzzes. Instead of another message from him, it’s a call from Kate. I grimace, staring at her face on the screen. I’ve been dreading this all weekend, worried about what she’ll say when she finds out about the recent development in my relationship with Lex. She practically had to scoop me up with a spoon and build me back after the breakup, so I know she’ll call me an imbecile and convince me I’m making a huge mistake.
I let it ring until it goes to voicemail and let out a long sigh. The relief doesn’t last long, though, as I receive a text soon after.
Kate
If you screen one of my calls ever again, I’ll come punch you in the tits so hard they’ll grow three sizes, and you’ll finally have a decent rack.
My jaw drops at the brutality of her words, but the corners of my lips also rise with an incredulous grin. I know she’d never lay a finger on me, not in a million years, so the threat is beyond empty. But when she calls again, I immediately pick up .
“You’re so mean, oh my God,” I tell her.
“And you’re such a sneaky little bitch!”
“What? Why?”
“Who are you texting?”
My eyes fly to Tami, who swiftly looks away and back at the screen. As soon as I hang up, I’ll remind her what happens to snitches.
“So?” Kate insists. “Because you’re apparently smiling and giggling and blushing, and since you’re not texting me, I’m pretty fucking sure you’re texting someone you definitely shouldn’t be texting.”
Well, there goes my shameful little secret.
As I stand up to head to my room, I suggest, “What if I met someone new?”
“How? You stay in all day, except for work, so unless a home invader took pity and decided to put you out of your misery by taking you out on a date, I don’t see how—”
“Okay, okay,” I interrupt her, frustratedly closing my door behind me. “Lex and I are talking again. And I was going to tell you, but—”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you,” Kate mutters, clearly exasperated. “You got back with him and didn’t tell me?”
“We’re not back together—we’re just talking. And I know you’ll try to change my mind, but I really don’t want to, Kate.”
“Of course I’ll try, you moron! That man fucking broke you,” she protests. “I’m your best friend. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”
“Yeah, you had many things to say about him when we broke up.”
“Because I’m on your side. Always.”
“And I love you for it. I really do. But it’s much more complicated than I thought, and I know he hurt me, but it wasn’t like that.” I’m so scared she won’t get it that my voice cracks.
“Deedee, calm down. I’m not a total bitch. I don’t want that jerk to hurt you again, but you’re a smart, strong, and fierce woman, so you probably have some goddamn excellent reasons. And I remember how happy you were and how perfect he was for you. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I pushed you into his arms.”
There’s a moment of silence, but I can tell she isn’t done yet, so I wait.
“I’m definitely not the best judge when it comes to attractive men. I can’t even count how many times you’ve picked up the pieces of me after one of my asshole exes broke my heart. You’ve been here for me so much, babe. And I know how frustrating it must have been to do it so often. I can’t possibly blame you for relapsing this one time when I have done it at least a dozen times. If you really want to be with him, I’ll take back all the nasty shit I said about him and bear it for you. But you better be sure that if he ever steps out of line again, I will fucking wreck him.”
I can’t help but giggle at the image. She’s as fierce and strong as I am. She just doesn’t know it.
“Do you mean all this?” I sheepishly ask.
“I do, I really do. I’ll whoop his ass Maria Carmen style if I have to.”
The thought of Kate furiously wielding a chancla makes me laugh again. “No one whoops ass like my abuela.”
“No, no one does because she’s the fucking bomb. Now, spill the tea, Dee. What happened, and why are you talking to that jerk again?”
“Kate,” I reproachfully say.
“Sorry, there’s an adjustment period. Why are you talking to Lex again?”
I let myself fall back on my bed and stare at the screen, gathering my thoughts. I tell her about the brunch with Michelle and Lucy. Then I tell her about my confrontation with Lex, about his insecurities and mine. I empty it all because Kate has always been my best advisor.
By the time I’m done, she hates Lex a little less, but she’s still adamant he’s on parole. One mistake, and he’s out. Her protectiveness is incredibly touching, and knowing she has my back will forever reassure me.
We talk for hours—like we haven’t in so long. At some point, we even video call so she can help me pick my outfit for my lunch with him on Thursday. We talk through our evening routine then until we can’t stay awake. Before we hang up, she makes me promise to tell her if Lex does some bullshit again, and I reassure her by telling her I’ll be on top of the ass whooping myself.
As I fall asleep, I notice how much lighter I feel. My big secret isn’t as heavy anymore. And her approval, however conditional it is, also alleviates my worries.
I’m still smiling when Morpheus drags me into a peaceful and heavy slumber.