Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Isla
I fidget where I sit, waiting for Blake on the park bench after work.
When I asked him to meet me here, he didn’t seem too thrilled. I think Blake likes the outdoors the same amount as I liked that squirrel in my apartment. Just another thing we don’t have in common. But he doesn’t have to worry, I’m not going to ask him to go for a stroll through the park, hand in hand. I’ve asked him here so I can break up with him.
I wanted to do it in public and not at a restaurant because I’d either do it early into the meal and we’d sit there awkwardly, having to finish eating, or I’d wait and do it at the end and feel like I was further leading him on.
I’ve given it a lot of thought the past couple of days, and I know breaking up is what’s best. I like Blake, but I don’t like like him. Not when I spend most of my time daydreaming about Travis. Blake and I aren’t destined to go anywhere, so there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable.
Travis and I aren’t going anywhere either, but it just doesn’t feel right to pine away for him while I have a boyfriend. Blake deserves to be single so he can go find the woman he’s meant to be with.
I hate this part. No part of me thinks Blake will be particularly upset that I’m breaking up with him. Still, it never feels good to say those words to someone. And so here I wait, a bundle of frayed nerves. I’ve been dreading this all day.
A few minutes later, I see him approach and steel myself for this conversation.
He smiles on his way over and bends down to kiss my cheek before sitting next to me. “Sorry, I’m a little late. Got hung up at work. You wouldn’t believe what that twit Avery did today.” He launches into a long story about how his coworker mistagged some file on the computer that he needed and so he couldn’t find them. As his story is coming to a close, he says, “I mean, she’s basically shuffling papers. It’s not rocket science. A high school kid could probably do it.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Sometimes I think these admin girls are more trouble than they’re worth.”
Anger heats my blood, and my eyes narrow at him.
He must notice because he’s quick to say, “Not all of them, of course. I’m sure you’re very competent at your job.”
Blake thinks that anyone who isn’t crawling their way to the top is less than. But I’ve never wanted to work my way up the corporate ladder. Working somewhere I enjoy, with coworkers I like, in a steady job and feeling as though I’m contributing to the overall success of the company has always been my goal. There’s more to life than work, and my identity has never been wrapped up in my job title.
A big part of me wants to come back at Blake and put him in his place, but it doesn’t matter anymore what he thinks. Very, very soon, he won’t be my problem.
“I’m sorry you had a frustrating day at work,” I say.
He takes my hand and squeezes. “Thanks. It’s improving now that I’m with you.”
His smile makes my stomach clench.
“Blake, we need to talk.” There’s no point in putting this off any longer.
“Sure, what’s up?” From the look on his face, he doesn’t seem to gather what I’m about to do. He appears more eager than anything.
“I’ve been thinking.” I slowly pull my hand from his and place it back on my lap. “I’m not sure that we’re suited for one another.”
He frowns, his forehead wrinkling. “What do you mean? We get along well.”
I nod. “True. We don’t argue, and we get along well enough, but… I don’t think we’re a love match. I think we should end things.” I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.
He’s silent for a beat and blinks slowly at me. “Wow.”
“Wow?”
“Yeah, wow. Not what I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I thought you were going to tell me you were finally ready to sleep with me.”
I blink at him. I have no idea what would have ever given him that idea. And why would I bring him to a park? To bend me over the back of the bench?
Without warning, his face crumples, and he leans forward, covering his face with his hands. “I can’t believe this. Was it something I said? Something I did? I swear I’ll work on whatever it is that’s not making you happy.”
This is not what I was expecting. At all. I kind of thought we were on the same page.
Where is the overconfident man I’ve been spending time with for months?
I rub his back. “It’s nothing you’ve done or said. It’s just that my feelings for you aren’t growing, and I think if they were going to, they would have by now. Maybe we’re better as friends.”
He raises his head and whips it in my direction. “That’s what girls say when they’re trying to let a guy down easy.”
I open my mouth to respond, but I’m unsure what to say. He’s not wrong.
“See? You can’t even deny it.” Tears fill his eyes, and he pushes his hands through his hair, leaving them there and gripping his hair hard.
“You’re a great guy, Blake, and I know that you’ll make the right woman very happy one day. I don’t think I’m that woman, that’s all.”
He bolts up off the bench and circles around to look at me. “This is all bullshit. You’re only saying it to try to let me down easy. I thought we had something really special. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
I stand from the bench and take his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m really not.”
“Well, you are.” He rips his hand from mine.
Before I can say anything else, he runs down the path away from me like a lost toddler looking for his mom. I consider running after him to make sure he’s all right, but I’m wearing heels, and nothing I said made him feel any better. In fact, I think it made him feel worse, so I sit back on the bench and watch as he disappears around a curve in the path.
I don’t like making people feel bad. I thought Blake would either be indifferent or angry. That I could have dealt with. But him being upset I didn’t anticipate, and I feel awful that I made him feel that way.
After fifteen minutes on the bench, pondering whether I led him on to make him think our relationship was more than it was, I make the walk through the park to my car. But once I’m there, heading back to my apartment is the last thing I want to do.
I know myself well enough to know that I’ll sit at home feeling sorry for myself, spiraling further into feeling bad. So I decide to return to the office. When I started at RENT-A HUSBAND almost a year ago, I didn’t love how the filing system was set up and told myself that I would change it at the first available opportunity. The idea of spending hours moving things around appeals to me more than sulking by myself in my apartment.
When I pull into a parking space behind the building, I’m the only one here, which is what I was counting on. There’s no reason for the guys to be here since the workday ended a couple of hours ago.
I trudge over to the back door to unlock it, feeling weighed down by guilt. Breaking up with Blake was the right thing to do, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m surrounded by file folders I’ve stacked on the floor to reorganize, and I hear a vehicle pull around the building and the sound of a car door closing.
It must be Lucas. He’s the workaholic of the three Abbott brothers. I can see him popping in here for a bit after dinner to get a little extra work done.
The back door opens and closes, followed by the thud of work boots on the old wood floors as he walks toward the front of the house where my office is. But when I glance at the threshold, it’s Travis standing there, not Lucas.
The sight of him pokes at me for some reason. Maybe because he’s the one who led me to break up with Blake, made it clear it needed to happen, even if he doesn’t know it. I wouldn’t feel so poorly for hurting Blake if I’d been able to control my attraction to Travis.
“What are you doing here so late?”
I don’t think he’s trying to, but the way he asks the question pushes my buttons, and I find myself on the defense. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I set the file folder in my hand on the pile by my feet and step over to my desk to grab my water and take a sip. Travis walks farther into the room.
“I’m finally just finishing my day.” He tosses his call sheets from the day on my desk.
My forehead wrinkles. “How is that possible? Did you get an emergency call I don’t know about?”
“No, just the ones you gave me. But the last call was missing a bunch of pertinent information as to what I was there for, so I’m only finishing now.”
I take pride in my job, and I’m getting really good at estimating how many calls the guys can get through in a day based on what the calls are for, so his insinuation that I messed up riles me even further. “Did you work in slow motion?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Did you forget to ask for all the information when they called?”
I scowl and slam my bottle of water down on my desk. “Of course I did. Just like I always do.”
Travis takes two steps closer to where I stand at the opposite end of the desk. “If that’s the case, then why did I think I was going to install a new light fixture when I was actually there to install three new light fixtures, clean out the gutters, and install a new dishwasher?”
My face heats. I asked all the same questions I always do, but obviously the homeowner left out some information. Either way, Travis thinks I didn’t do my job, and that ticks me off.
“For the record, I ask every customer what work needs to be done, but if they don’t tell me, then there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Clearly.” He takes another step toward me. We’re now only a few inches apart, and I have to tilt my head up to look at him. To my surprise, Travis looks at me with a mix of confusion and concern. “What’s got you so worked up tonight? What’s wrong?”
“Who says anything is wrong?” I snipe. I don’t know why. I think he’s trying to be nice, even if he’s always gruff about it.
“Your spitfire attitude.”
I roll my eyes.
“The eye roll,” he adds.
“I just had a bad day, that’s all.” I toe the tip of my pump into the floor and look at it.
“What happened? One of my brothers being an asshole to you?”
My head shoots up, and I meet his gaze. It’s clear from the tone of his voice that he’d have a problem if that were the case. The invisible thread between us tightens, and I feel physically drawn to him, almost as though I need to move closer to him.
“No, nothing like that,” I say in a small voice.
“What then?” He scratches his short beard, forehead scrunched as if I’m a problem to be solved.
Should I tell him? It’s not as though he won’t find out eventually. He can know the what, just not the why.
“I broke up with Blake earlier tonight, and he was more upset than I expected.”
“Good.” He crosses his arms as the single word rings out around me.
“Good that he was upset?”
“Good that you broke up with him. That guy wasn’t right for you.”
My spine straightens. My first instinct is to argue with him, but he’s right. That’s exactly why I broke up with Blake—we weren’t right together.
Our gazes lock and hold, the pull between us intensifying.
“I agree, which is why I told him I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I just didn’t think he’d really care. If anything, I thought he’d be angry, that his ego might get the best of him, but I wasn’t banking on him being upset about it.”
“Of course he was upset.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Travis closes the small amount of distance between us until his chest is almost pressing against mine, and he places a hand on my cheek. My breath stalls in my lungs.
“He had the best, and he knows he’s not ever gonna get better. What the hell would he have to be happy about?”
I suck in a sharp breath, his words spearing through my heart, filling it with joy and making it expand.
“Travis…” I whisper.
We stare at each other, his hand on my cheek, my heart thundering. My lips tingle as I wonder, hope he’ll lean in and kiss me. But the moment passes, and his hand drops from my face, and he steps away. Disappointment floods my chest, even if it might be wrong or tacky, because I literally just broke up with someone.
Travis takes another step back and another before he slowly turns and begins to walk toward the hallway. He stops with his back to me, and I watch it rise and fall with a deep breath.
“Fuck it.” He spins around and stalks over to me, leaving me a split second to register his intent before his hands are on the sides of my face and his lips are pressed against mine.
A low groan escapes him the second our lips touch. Does he feel the same relief I do?
His tongue licks along the seam of my lips, and I open for him, welcoming him in.
Going along with this might make me a bad person, but I can’t find it in me to care when Travis’s hands are on me.