Chapter 17 #2
Her message was a result of me texting her: I’ve actually decided to start my own agency instead of accept a promotion. How’s that for directionless and unfocused? This wasn’t even close to the five-year plan. Guess there’s more than one way to be successful.
I cringed.
“Bad?” Oliver asked.
I read it out loud to him.
“Ouch.”
“Just add that one to the list of things I need to fix when my head isn’t pounding.”
“Aside from the pounding head, how are you feeling today about quitting your job?”
“Terrible, free, scared, hopeful, overwhelmed.”
He nodded. “All completely valid. What’s next?”
“You have your own business, right? Any advice?”
“You really are going to start your own agency?” He nodded to my phone, indicating the text I’d sent my sister stating that.
“I’m going to try my hardest.”
“Give yourself grace and at least double the time you think it will take.”
“I have no time at all.”
“Then give yourself ten times that long.”
“Zero times ten is zero.”
He laughed. “I sense patience isn’t your strength.”
“I’ve been waiting years for this.”
“That’s a long time to wait for something,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. Despite what he’d said about not trusting people, his eyes were soft and open and genuine. I wanted to lean closer.
Instead, his phone caught my attention.
It sat between us on the table and the voicemail replayed in my mind like some slow-motion horror sequence. I lunged forward, but as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he pulled it out of my reach.
“Seriously,” I said, standing. “Will you delete that message?”
He stood as well, turning his back to me. “It’s epic. I don’t want to delete it.”
I stood on the chair he’d just abandoned and tried to reach around him but, because I couldn’t see, just ended up hugging him from behind. With my body pressed against his back, his laughter vibrated against my chest.
He turned to face me and I released him.
But because I was still standing on the chair, I lost my balance, teetering backward.
He caught me before I fell off, pulling me forward by one hand, causing me to crash into him.
He wrapped his arm around my thighs and we both went still as I steadied myself.
His chest was hard against my stomach, and his cheek brushed against my chest. His arm felt firm and comfortable, like it had been wrapped around me many times before. Like I wanted it to be wrapped around me many times in the future. I rested my arms on his shoulders, my whole body relaxing.
“You smell good too,” he said.
My heart increased its speed. “I’m sure I smell like vodka and sweat.”
“You smell sweet. Like citrus or something.”
“Um… pomegranates. My lotion.” I could feel my blood pulsing in my neck and in places much lower.
He met my eyes and his hold tightened around me.
I ran my fingers through his hair, then leaned down, my eyes closing in anticipation of the kiss.
“You don’t think we have anything in common?” he asked, his lips millimeters from mine.
My eyes flew open. “What?”
“In your message, you said you didn’t think we had anything in common.”
“Don’t listen to drunk Margot. She rambles.”
“So you do think we have things in common?”
I hesitated. “We probably do… um… We’re both funny.”
He laughed.
“Do you think we have anything in common?” I asked.
“We both have our own businesses.”
“One of us does. The other has a very long road ahead of her.”
“It’s something,” he said.
“We are both very attractive,” I said.
He smiled, lifted me off the chair, and spun around, setting me on the ground. I looked up at him in surprise.
“We’re good at this,” he said, a single finger running from the inside of my elbow to my wrist, showing me what he meant by this as waves of pleasure sang through me.
“So good,” I agreed.
“We need to make sure we’re good at not this.”
“That sounds like a terrible plan,” I said. Aside from today, we’d only hung out two times in real life. The first time was catastrophic and the second time, in the end, not much better. “You want to keep trying?”
“I want to throw you on this table and taste every inch of you.”
“Okay.”
He chuckled. “And god, I want that feeling in a relationship. It’s been awhile since I’ve had that. But I also want something real. Something more. We need to see if we get along outside of apps… and cars.”
I stepped closer to him, our chests almost bumping. “So you want to ignore the physical stuff for a while and… be friends?” Why was this man insisting on keeping the only thing we seemed to be good at together away from us?
“If that’s what you want to call it.” His voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes were steady on mine.
“Right. Okay.” I took a step back, breaking our connection. “I… I need to shower. Alone,” I added for some stupid reason. “I mean, of course alone. You already made that clear. I’m an idiot. I’ll-I-I’ll be back.”
I left him in my kitchen, and it wasn’t until I was locked in my bathroom standing under a steaming hot shower that I realized I should’ve given him the option to leave. Maybe he did.
“I hope he left,” I whispered to the white tiles in my shower.
“Liar,” they would’ve whispered back if they could talk.