21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Lane
Tage walks into the office with a smile on his face that I’ve never seen before. He looks entirely content, like everything in his life is good. Maybe my head gets a little bigger knowing it’s all because of me. He gets settled at his desk, then knocks on my open door with the iPad in hand.
“I had to get my own coffee this morning,” I complain, but give him a look so he knows I’m just giving him a hard time.
“How ever will you recover?” he asks as he steps inside.
“If that’s your way of telling me you want to role-play nurse and patient, I am here for it.”
He laughs, then takes a seat across from me and unlocks the iPad.
“Is that a no?” I push.
His gaze flicks up to me. “Never done the role-playing thing before.”
“So, it’s not a no?” I ask cautiously.
Smiling, he says, “It’s not a no.”
“Come to my place after work,” I say.
He rolls his eyes, but this time it’s more playful than annoyed. He taps away on the iPad, the same way he always does in the mornings.
“Will you come to my place after work?” I rephrase it as a question, hoping this is the hold-up on why he hasn’t said yes.
Tage places the iPad on his lap and looks at me intently.
“I don’t want to rush things.”
“How is coming over rushing things?” I ask.
“I just spent the night.”
“And? You know how many nights there are in a lifetime? What’s one more?”
“You have an answer for everything.”
“I didn’t get here on my good looks alone.”
“The charisma is a problem,” he mutters under his breath, going back to the iPad. When he looks up at me again, he has his work-face on. “It’s a pretty easy day. Just an internal meeting with accounting after lunch.”
“If you don’t want to come to my place, you can just say no. It’ll get you a lot farther than being vague.”
Sighing, he puts the iPad on his lap again. “It’s not that I don’t want to go to your place, Lane, it’s just that I don’t want to rush into things. So, I can’t just say no, because that’s not the answer.”
“I don’t know what you mean. If you want to do it, then do it.”
Why is that so hard? He wants something. He’s able to do the something he wants. So why isn’t he allowing himself to do it?
“There are a lot of things I want to do, and doing this could affect the other things I want.”
“Like what?”
“Like making a life for myself. Not having things handed to me. Why do I feel like we keep having these same conversations?”
“What does that have to do with you coming over?” I question. “I’m truly confused here, Tage. Help me understand.”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I think I don’t trust myself.”
“With what?” I say, getting a little flustered. None of this makes sense to me. He wants to come over, but he won’t come over because he’s worried he… what? Won’t ever leave?
Would that be so bad?
“Getting too comfortable,” he admits. And I realize I wasn’t too far off base.
He shifts in the seat. “Look, I need you to not only respect this but help me with it. Please. I… I want to do this with you. I enjoy being with you. I just don’t want to rush into things.
I have a lot of personal stuff going on, things I need to work on, alone, and I can’t do that if I’m with you 24/7. ”
“Why not? I can help.”
“Exactly.” He nods. “That’s exactly the problem. I need to do this myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I just do,” he huffs. “Please, just listen to what I’m saying.”
“I’m listening. Fully listening. I just don’t understand it.”
“Well, you don’t have to. You only have to respect it.”
I can sense he’s getting frustrated, so I drop it.
It’s not worth arguing over, and I can see there is no budging on this.
He’s made up his mind. And he’s right—I need to respect it.
That was never a question. I’m just trying to understand, but it seems that maybe he doesn’t understand it either. At least, not yet.
“What’s the limit then?” I ask.
“On?”
“When I get to see you outside of work.”
“We don’t need a schedule.”
“I disagree. It seems, according to you, we do. You know, so we don’t go over the imaginary number of nights spent together that are too much that you’ve made up in your head.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
“I’m just saying what you said.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and gets to his feet. “I have work to do.”
I watch him go, and don’t say a word. He closes my door, and I’m left to work.
The moment I hear a second, unrecognizable voice outside my office door, I can’t tear the smile from my face. I eagerly wait until the second voice leaves. A second later, my door opens.
“Seriously?” he groans.
“I’m sorry?” I look up, pretending I don’t know what’s going on.
“Was this necessary?” He holds up the bouquet of a dozen roses.
“Oh, do you have an admirer?” I say sweetly.
He frowns, but I’m holding back my smile. It’s not easy. What is easy is poking the bear.
Tage being the bear.
“I know you sent these,” he says.
“There’s nothing on the card.” I feign innocence, as if I didn’t get on my computer the moment he walked out my door this morning and order them.
“Lane—”
“Yes, Tage?”
His gaze goes from me to the flowers he’s holding in his hand. He watches them for a long time, until his face softens. When he looks back at me, there is a small smile on his face.
“Thank you,” he finally says.
“You’re very welcome.”
He leaves my office, closing the door gently behind him.
I didn’t sign my name on the card, but I did add sorry for our first fight on there.
It wasn’t much of a fight, more of a slight disagreement, but I was a little meaner than I needed to be.
I just don’t understand why he is being so stubborn when it comes to his life.
Why struggle when I’m offering everything?
It doesn’t make sense. But this is another thing I’ll have to bend to.
Because Tage is as stubborn as an ox, and there is no swaying his mind when he’s decided something.
But that’s okay. Because I will bend until the man breaks me.