Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(124)

“I don’t know, Ross.” I sigh. “Maybe I should just give up. He’s probably better off without me.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Ross comes closer and places his hand on my leg. “Ollie, you’ve been significantly happier since you’ve been together. He even said it himself that he was learning to trust again.”

“That means nothing when I lost that trust.”

“Well then, tell me this,” he says. “You said you love him, right? Are you just going to give up on that? Do you think you could get over him?”

“No,” I say. “But I don’t think I have a choice. I think it’s inevitable.”

“It is if you don’t try.” He pushes at my leg. “Just go over there, talk to him. Get him to listen to you.”

I pull my weighted blanket that smells like him closer to my face. “And what if he doesn’t believe me?”

“He will. Trust me. You just need to talk it out. Okay?”

I roll my teeth over my trembling lip. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t. Talk to him, make sense of it all.” Ross is right. I can’t imagine ever feeling how I feel for Silas for anyone else. He’s such a good man. Private, thoughtful, caring, kind, funny . . . just perfect. I can see my life with him. Through ups and downs, wins and losses, good assignments and bad assignments. I can see how we balance each other out. And I can’t just let that go. Let him go.

I take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”





Chapter Twenty-Six





OLLIE





From the moment I stepped into Silas’s apartment, I knew this was a bad idea.

The last thing I’m sure he wants to see when he gets home after a brutal road trip is me, but Ross is right. If I’m going to have any chance at salvaging this relationship with Silas, then I need to talk to him. And the only way I can do that is if I’m at his place.

Doesn’t make it any less intimidating.

Because I have this horrible feeling that this is the end of us. That there is no coming back from this. And the more I think about that, the more I can’t hold back my emotions. Because I love this man. I love him more than anyone I’ve ever loved, anyone I’ve ever been with.

He’s made me feel beautiful again.

He’s made me feel like I matter.

He’s put a smile on my face every day, and the knowledge that it could all end after tonight has my stomach in absolute knots.

I got a text from Ross about a half hour ago letting me know that the boys landed, so Silas should be home any minute.

I check my phone for the time just as the front door unlocks.

Nerves shoot through my veins, and as the door opens, I brace myself for what’s to come.

I stand from the couch, wearing his sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, hoping and praying he’ll give me a chance.

He steps into the apartment wearing a stunning dark gray three-piece suit that clings to every part of his body. He rolls his suitcase inside, then shuts the door behind him and locks it. When he turns around and spots me, he freezes.

His lips thin.

His brow turns down.

And I immediately know I’m not welcome.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks.

Hands trembling, legs about to give out, I take a step forward and say, “I really need to talk to you.”

“About what?” he asks as he tosses his keys on the entryway table and walks over to the kitchen. That’s when I catch the black under his eye as well as the swelling. My heart aches, knowing I’m the reason he has that. I’m the reason he’s had such a rough few days. I’m the reason his team now has two losses.

“About the article,” I say.

“Nothing to talk about,” he replies as he grabs a beer from his fridge and pops it open. “You decided to take advantage of me to gain momentum in your career. Simple as that.”

He downs what seems like half of the can.

“I . . . I didn’t write that,” I say.

He lowers his can of beer and looks me in the eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that? You wrote that fucking article. I read it before you turned it in. That was yours.”

“Yes, it was,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper from how tight my throat is. “But that part about you, it wasn’t written by me. I wouldn’t do that to you, Silas.”

“Wouldn’t you, though?” he asks. He takes another gulp of his beer and then sets it down on the counter. “You were desperate to make something of yourself, to impress Roberts, so what would stop you from using me? Seems like it’s worked out for you. The story is everywhere.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Silas. I wouldn’t do that to the man I love.”

“Love?” He scoffs with an ugly laugh. “You don’t fucking love me, and don’t even try to claim that you do,” he says while reaching into the fridge for another beer. “No one would ever write that about the person they love.”

“Silas, I didn’t write—”

“You fucked me, took what you wanted, and left me bleeding,” he says, his voice growing angrier. “Was it worth it?” He tips his beer back and chugs.