Bro Code(43)

Which is why it can't ever happen. Barrett and I have no future—I can't mistake this weekend for more than what it is. A few orgasms shared between a couple of cool people is not a foundation for a future. Putting on a brave face, I say the only thing I can think of.

“Pass the shampoo?” I say, blinking back the tears that threaten before he can see them.





Chapter Twenty-one


Ava


My weekend in Chicago was nothing short of magical, which has only made this week at work a million times harder.

I sigh heavily, and stare blankly at my computer screen.

I’ve somehow made it to Friday, but the amount of work I’ve actually done this week is up for debate. Every hour or so, I get up from my desk and wander through the warehouse, as if the physical movement will stop the intimate images that are on replay through my brain.

Once I’m back at my desk, I can only focus on budgets and spreadsheets for so long before my mind starts to wander. Luckily, this weekend gave me a whole lot of daydreaming material. Between the sex and just enjoying his company, the entire visit had been a dream come true from start to finish. But out of all the incredible memories we crammed into one weekend, my mind keeps returning to my last night there.

Sex with Barrett was always fueled by an unbridled intensity, but the way we made love our last night together was something above and beyond. The way we clung to each other felt desperate, like we knew what we had could slip away at any second.

As I relive it in my memory for the hundredth time, the tears I’ve been waiting on all week well up in my eyes. That night, Barrett made love to me like he knew we had an expiration date just around the corner. And now, with that expiration date in the rearview, I’m stuck at my desk, dreaming about some universe where every kiss with Barrett isn’t on borrowed time.

“Knock, knock!”

The mess of fiery red curls in the doorframe pulls me out of my head.

“Megan, what are you doing here?” I wipe a stray tear from my cheek and try to blink away the heartbroken look in my eyes, but her brows are already scrunched together in suspicion. There’s just no fooling your best friend.

“I thought I’d swing by on my lunch break to hear about your weekend with Barrett.” Even hearing his name said out loud is enough for my eyes to well up again, which she takes as a signal to shut my door. “Why the tears? Did things not go well? Do you need me to call his office line and chew him out?”

I crack a half smile, wiping a tear from my cheek with the back of my hand.

“No, no. Everything was fine. More than fine, actually. Perfect. That’s the problem. He was sweet and romantic and passionate. And now it’s over and he’s hundreds of miles away.”

She pulls a chair around to my side of the desk so we can sit knee to knee.

“I just don’t see any way this ends well,” I manage to say through sniffles. She grabs the whole box of tissues off my desk and I cradle it in my lap, pulling out tissue after tissue to try to dab up my tears before they get a chance to smear mascara down my cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. You’ve got it bad,” she says, tossing my accumulated pile of wet tissues into the trashcan.

“I know. And it’s so stupid. I knew from the beginning that this was all a terrible idea. Between the distance and how upset it would make Nick, I knew I was asking for trouble. But I did it anyway. I’m falling in love with him. I can’t believe how stupid I am.”

“Hey. Don’t say that about my best friend, okay? You’re not stupid. You’re human.”

“Same thing,” I groan, which gets a bubbling laugh out of her.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay,” she reassures me. I let out a long, staggered sigh. Deep down, I'm not sure if believe her.

“I've got to get back to my office,” she says, getting on her feet. “But call me if you need anything, okay? You know I’m just a few blocks away. I can be here in a flash.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you again.”

As she helps me up to hug me goodbye, the usual grumble of voices and hum of machines suddenly grows louder and more frenzied.

“Press pause on the hugs goodbye,” I say, holding up one finger. “I need to check on this.”

I do one final check for mascara smears in the mirror inside my desk drawer, and roll my shoulders back. Boss mode. Megan follows close behind me as I stride out of my office with newfound confidence. My love life may be a mess, but I’ve got a factory to keep in ship shape order. Before I can make it into the assembly area, a worker stops me, his eyes practically popping out of his head.

“Ms. Saunders, I don’t know if you want to go in there. It’s not for anyone with a weak stomach.”

What is he talking about? I push past him, Megan in tow. This is my factory, after all. If there’s a problem, I need to know about it.

A small crowd of workers has circled around one spot on the assembly floor, murmuring worriedly, but the crowd parts as they see me approaching. At the center of the throng is Mark, the engine maintenance guy, crouched down on the floor with his arm bent back in a way that no arm should be bent.

“He was trying to unjam the engine,” one employee from the crowd explains. My stomach drops. That’s the engine I ordered. “The engine fell right on him. His arm was crushed really bad, Ms. Saunders. We’ve gotta get him to the hospital.”