Chapter 20 #4
“Just gearing up for the season. Have to head home next week to see my parents, then I’ve got a trip, then I report for training next month.”
“How are your parents doing?” I ask, because it would be rude not to, even though I don’t really give a shit about the answer.
My eyes are now scanning the room, looking for Lauren. I need to talk to her. Now that I have no choice but to stay at Kaplan, I have to call things off with her. I can’t risk Carson finding out—even the fact that we had dinner together last night could set him off.
Besides, I remind myself, she wants things I’m not capable of giving: marriage and kids. That’s not my path.
I got carried away last night—it was stupid and reckless of me to pretend that I could be the person she wants, or that she would want me as I am.
“Same old,” Josh sighs. “Mom’s pressuring me to settle down and get married. She wants grandkids.”
“Oh?” That has me focusing back on him. “Who’s the lucky lady?
“Don’t know.” He shrugs and gives me a sheepish smile. “I haven’t met her yet.”
“You’re thinking about marriage and you don’t even have a particular person in mind?”
“Nah.” He rakes his hand through his light brown hair, and his dimple appears as he looks at something or someone beyond me. “But if I met the right person, maybe.”
“Hi.” The sweet sound of Lauren’s voice behind me has my spine stiffening.
I turn toward her and try not to let my breath catch. She looks even more phenomenal up close. Her long red hair hangs in loose waves, her lips are the shade of red every man dreams of having wrapped around his cock, and her dress hugs her body in a way that has my imagination running astray.
All I want to do is wrap my arm around her, guide her right out those doors and back to my place, then slip those tiny straps off her shoulders and let that dress fall to the ground.
But none of that can happen. Not anymore.
“Hey.” I turn back toward Josh, not wanting to introduce them but seeing no other option as they’re both standing here. “Josh, this is Lauren Manning. She works with me at Kaplan.”
Josh gives her the same smile he always gives the camera when he finishes a race, and I don’t miss the way he eyes her appreciatively.
“Nice to meet you, Josh,” Lauren says, her voice professional as she stretches her hand out to shake his.
“You too, Lauren.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want anything?”
Lauren responds with a dismissive “I’ll get something in a minute, thanks,” so Josh heads over to the bar only a few feet away.
“Lauren,” I say, dipping my head toward hers, because I can’t risk anyone else overhearing our conversation.
“God, I missed you,” she says, and the words pierce my heart because the last thing in the world I want is to hurt her, but I can’t see that I have any other choice.
“I can’t do this right now.”
“What can’t you do?” she says, her voice teasing as she looks up at me.
“Us.”
Those big blue eyes widen in hurt and confusion, and finally she stammers, “What?”
“I’m sorry if I gave you mixed signals last night, but nothing can happen between us.”
“But . . .” She drifts off when she sees the hard look on my face. I’m not going to change my mind.
She looks away, squares her shoulders, glances back at me, and says, “I don’t know what’s changed since last night, but I’m not going to beg for your attention.” I hear the hurt in her voice and it guts me.
“Lauren . . .” The word is a plea, but I don’t even know what I’m asking for. Forgiveness, maybe?
She holds her head up high, back ramrod straight, and tells me, “I hope you look back and regret this moment.”
I already do. “I’m doing what’s best for both of us. I’m not the right person for you, Lauren. Marriage and kids . . . those things you want are not the things I want.”
Confusion haunts her eyes, then she turns and storms away, the graceful lines of her shoulders tempting me to follow her.
But I don’t. I put my family first, like I always have.
“Are you into her?” Josh asks, appearing at my side with a beer.
The question is like a sucker punch in the gut. “No, why? Are you?”
“Dude, she’s perfect. Hell yes, I could be into her.” He watches her retreat, and I see what he sees. She’s young and gorgeous, and I know she wants what he’s apparently looking for. Letting him go after her would be doing her a favor.
Why is this so fucking hard? He could give her exactly what she wants—what I can’t give her. He’d be better for her than I would.
But God, the thought of her with anyone else makes me want to throat punch someone.
I realize, too late based on the way Josh is looking at me, that my jaw is clenched so tight it’s making my teeth hurt.
“You sure you’re not into her?” he asks.
I feel the same way a bull must feel when it’s breathing hard, head lowered, pawing at the dirt. There’s irrational anger, and all my instincts to charge are kicking in. But I take a deep breath and tell the lie that I’m confident I’ll regret. “I’m sure.”
You’re doing what’s best for her, I tell myself. No matter how much it hurts.