Chapter 13 Paige
PAIGE
"I'm telling you, Jamie, I have this completely under control." I take a swig of my latte and pace around my apartment, my free hand gesticulating wildly. "It's just a physical thing. Blowing off steam. No feelings involved whatsoever."
"Uh huh." Jamie's voice crackles through my phone speaker, her skepticism palpable. "So that's why you've been talking about Alex non-stop for the past half hour? Because there are 'no feelings involved whatsoever'?"
I freeze mid-step, nearly tripping over a stray game controller. Byte, startled by my abrupt movement, leaps off the couch with an indignant meow.
"What? No! I haven't been talking about him non-stop," I protest, knowing full well I have been. But Jamie doesn't need to know that. "I've just been... venting. About work stuff."
"Right. Work stuff. Like how infuriatingly charming Alex's smile is? Or how his eyes 'sparkle like the LEDs on a freshly soldered motherboard' when he looks at you?"
I feel my cheeks flush hot. Did I really say that? Out loud? To another human being? Maybe Jamie's right. Maybe I am in deeper than I thought.
"Okay, fine," I concede with a huff. "Maybe I have been talking about him a lot. But that doesn't mean anything! He's just... on my mind because of the project."
Jamie snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure the project is the only thing he's been on lately."
"Jamie!" I screech, nearly dropping my phone. Byte, now perched on the windowsill, flicks his tail in disapproval.
"Look, Paige," Jamie says, her tone softening. "I know you. And I know when you're falling for someone, even if you won't admit it to yourself. Remember Brian?"
I wince at the mention of my ex. "I thought we agreed never to speak of him again."
"My point is," Jamie continues, undeterred, "you have a pattern of falling for guys and then pushing them away before they can hurt you. And I get it, I do. But maybe... maybe Alex is different."
I sink down onto the couch, my mind whirring. Is Jamie right? Am I falling for Alex? The thought sends a knife of terror through me, followed by a strange, fluttering warmth.
No. No way. I can't be falling for Alex Spencer, of all people. He's my co-worker. My infuriating, irritating, undeniably sexy co-worker. This is just a physical thing, a way to relieve tension. Nothing more.
And yet... I can't deny the way my heart races when he looks at me. The way his touch sets my skin on fire. The way his stupid puns make me laugh, even when I want to throttle him.
Oh god. I'm in trouble.
"I have to end this," I blurt out, the words tumbling from my lips before I can stop them. "Whatever this is with Alex, it needs to stop. Before... before feelings get involved."
"Paige..." Jamie starts, but I cut her off.
"No, I've made up my mind. I'll text him now, ask him to meet me at The Rusty Spigot tonight. I'll tell him that this, whatever it is, is over."
Jamie sighs. "If that's what you think is best. But Paige... don't shut him out completely, okay? He might surprise you."
I make a noncommittal noise, already typing out a message to Alex with shaking fingers.
We need to talk. Something on my mind. Meet me at The Spigot tonight at 8?
His response comes within seconds, as if he was waiting for me to reach out.
Sure thing, Reynolds. See you then.
I stare at the words, my heart hammering against my ribs. What am I doing? Can I really go through with this?
I have to. It's the only way to protect myself. To keep things from getting too complicated.
"I gotta go," I tell Jamie, standing up from the couch on wobbly legs. "I need to get ready."
"Okay," Jamie says, her voice laced with concern. "But Paige? Be careful with your heart, okay?"
I swallow hard, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. "I will. Thanks, Jamie."
I end the call and toss my phone aside, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I can do this. I can end things with Alex before they spiral out of control.
I just need a little liquid courage first.
The Rusty Spigot is crowded for a Thursday night, the air thick with the mingled scents of stale beer and fried food. I weave my way through the throng of bodies, my eyes scanning the room for a familiar head of tousled brown hair.
I spot Alex at the bar, his long fingers wrapped around a pint glass. He's wearing a dark blue button-down that brings out the color of his eyes, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, a flush of heat rushing through me.
No. Focus, Paige. You're here to end things, not jump his bones.
I take a deep breath and approach the bar, sliding onto the stool next to him. He looks up at me, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Hey, Reynolds. I was starting to think you'd stood me up."
I glance at my watch, frowning. "It's 8:02."
He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. "I've been here since 7:30. Couldn't risk missing a minute with you."
I roll my eyes, ignoring the flutter in my chest at his words. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love it," he shoots back, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
I open my mouth to retort, but the words die on my tongue. Because he's right. God help me, I do love it. I love his ridiculous puns and his infuriating smirk and the way he makes me feel like I'm the only person in the room.
I'm so screwed.
The bartender appears in front of me, jolting me out of my thoughts. "What can I get you?"
"Wine," I blurt out. "Red. A glass. No, a bottle."
Alex raises an eyebrow at me as the bartender moves away to get my drink. "Starting strong tonight, huh Reynolds?"
I shrug, trying to play it off. "It's been a long week. I need to unwind."
He nods, his expression turning serious. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. This is it. The moment of truth.
The bartender returns with my wine and a glass, and I waste no time pouring myself a generous serving. I take a long sip, feeling the alcohol burn its way down my throat.
"Right. Yes. I wanted to talk about... us," I say, setting down my glass with a clink.
Alex leans forward, his brow furrowed. "Us? What about us?"
I take another sip of wine, steeling myself. "I think... I think we need to stop. This. Whatever it is we're doing."
He blinks at me, his expression unreadable. "Stop? Why?"
I grip my glass tighter, avoiding his gaze. "Because... because it's not a good idea. We work together, Alex. It's unprofessional."
He scoffs. "Since when do you care about being professional? You're the one who jumped me in the elevator."
I feel my cheeks heat at the memory. "That was... a mistake."
"A mistake." He leans back, his jaw tight. "Right. Of course."
I risk a glance at him, my heart clenching at the hurt in his eyes. "Alex..."
He holds up a hand, cutting me off. "No, I get it. Message received, Reynolds. Loud and clear."
He stands abruptly, tossing a few bills on the bar. "Thanks for the chat. See you at work."
He turns to leave, and panic rises in my throat. This isn't how this was supposed to go. I can't let him walk away thinking that he means nothing to me.
Because the truth is, he means everything.
"Alex, wait!" I call out, stumbling off my stool. The wine has gone straight to my head, making the room spin.
He pauses, his back to me. I reach out and grab his arm, turning him to face me.
"I lied," I blurt out, the words spilling from my lips in a rush. "It's not just physical. Not for me."
He stares at me, his eyes wide. "What are you saying, Paige?"
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. "I'm saying... I have feelings for you, Alex. Real feelings. And it scares the shit out of me."
He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Why does it scare you?"
I lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed. "Because... because I'm not good at this. At relationships. At letting people in. I always fuck it up."
"Paige," he says softly, tilting my chin up to look at him. "You're not going to fuck this up. I won't let you."
I blink up at him, my vision blurry with unshed tears. "How can you be so sure?"
He smiles, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "Because I know you. And I know us. And I think... I think we could be really good together. If you'll let us."
I stare at him, my heart in my throat. He's saying everything I've been too afraid to admit, even to myself.
But he's wrong. We can't be together. It would never work. We're too different, too explosive. We'd burn each other up until there was nothing left.
"No," I whisper, stepping back from him. "No, we can't. We're all wrong for each other, Alex. Can't you see that?"
He frowns, his hand dropping to his side. "Is that really what you think? That we're wrong for each other?"
I nod, my throat tight. "Yes. No. I don't know." I press a hand to my forehead, feeling suddenly dizzy. "I just know that I can't do this. I can't be with you."
He's silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nods, a small, sad smile on his lips.
"Okay," he says softly. "If that's what you want, Paige. I'll respect that."
He turns to go, and panic seizes me. I can't let him leave. Not like this. Not when everything inside me is screaming for him to stay.
"Alex," I call out, my voice cracking. He pauses, his back to me. "One more round? For old times' sake? Before we end it for good.”
He turns slowly, his eyes meeting mine. There's a flicker of something in their depths, something that looks like hope.
"Okay," he says, his voice low. "One more round."
I step towards him, my heart in my throat. I know this is a mistake. I know I should walk away, end things now before they get any more complicated.
But with Alex looking at me like that, his eyes dark with desire, I can't bring myself to care.
I close the distance between us, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pull his mouth down to mine. He responds instantly, his arms wrapping around my waist and hauling me against him.
The kiss is electric, a circuit completing between us. I feel it in my veins, in my bones, a heat that has nothing to do with the crowded bar or the wine in my blood.
This is what I've been missing. This connection, this passion, this feeling of being fully alive. With Alex, I'm not just a coder or a co-worker or a robot incapable of feeling.
With Alex, I'm just Paige. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.
We break apart, both of us breathing hard. Alex rests his forehead against mine, his eyes searching my face.
"Paige," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "I..."
I press a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh. No more talking. Take me home, Alex."
He stares at me for a long moment, his expression torn. Then he nods, threading his fingers through mine and leading me out of the bar.
I know this is temporary. I know that in the morning, I'll have to face the consequences of my actions, the tangled web of emotions I've woven between us.
But for now, with Alex's hand in mine and his lips on my skin, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we could make this work.
Even if it's just for one more night.