Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(40)

Whenever he looked back as an adult, he picked it out as one of the worst moments of his youth. Not because it wasn’t an amazing moment to witness. Five self-centered pre-teens banding together to do the right thing didn’t happen every day. No, it was seeing so much good in front of him and knowing he’d never be able to touch it. He didn’t know how to have those moments. They played out in front of him like a movie, something he could watch but never have a role in.

He felt like that now. Walking away from the table, he’d felt like he won the race. Then he’d looked back at the starting line and realized he’d missed the whole point. Frankie hadn’t needed someone to play hardball with her. She’d needed someone to be good to her. He’d set up the program in his mother’s memory to commemorate her spirit. A spirit he didn’t have.

Eliza had it. Watching her so sweetly put into words something he would never be capable of saying had put him back at the finish line of that race. Staring back at what he would never be. For God’s sake, he was trying to convince Eliza to love him? He really must be a special kind of idiot. He’d encountered so many women over the last decade of his life, all of them worthy of love, but him incapable of giving it. Now, he’d met the only girl who made him feel exultant and scared and desperate, all at the same time. And he couldn’t have her. Didn’t deserve her. Hadn’t earned the right to pleasure her. Or have lunch with her. Or marry her.

Oliver felt like he’d had a steel bar driven through his middle. Oh yeah, he’d actually had the notion in the back of his head, but hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge it until now. He’d sell his soul to the devil to marry Eliza, but the bastard was already in possession of it.

What was that old saying? If you love something, let it go. Whoever the hell had come up with it must have walked a mile in his shoes at some point. Probably a former recipient of the New York City’s Most Eligible Bachelor title. He’d been deluding himself to think he could have Eliza. What would she get out of the bargain? A guy who wore a tux well. A guy she’d probably wonder about every time they were around other women. Him. Nothing. He’d given himself away.

She turned and smiled up at him, her expression guileless and gentle. It disappeared slowly, though, in degrees. It seeped away, the same as his hope, and replaced with concern. Don’t be concerned, babe. It’s all over now.

Eliza rose and took his arm. “Frankie, please think about what we said. You have Oliver’s number. Call to let him know what you decide.”

He sent the command to his brain to smile and nod at Frankie as they walked away. She really would be perfect for something in his mother’s name. Another person who knew how to feel, to be good, even if she kept it hidden. They’d only made it halfway through the break room when a bench squeaked and the younger girl’s voice carried across the space to meet them.

“I’ll take it. I-I want the scholarship, please.”

A cheer went up around the break room. Joe left his table full of men and scooped his niece up into a bear hug. At first, Frankie look startled, but she sent them a thumbs up over her uncle’s shoulder. One by one, cab drivers came over to congratulate her with whopping back slaps that were usually reserved for men much bigger than Frankie. The scene felt intimate, private. Eliza must have felt the same way because she tugged him back down the hallway and onto the main floor.

They snagged a ride just outside the entrance, thanks to the steady stream of cabs leaving the facility. As he slid in beside Eliza and watched her turn to face him expectantly, Oliver realized he had a decision to make. An important one.

He couldn’t have her. Not permanently. As much as the idea of orbiting around her forever without being able to touch her made him want to jump out of the moving taxi, he had to walk away. She’d find someone worthy and—

Fuck f*ck f*ck. He couldn’t think about that just yet.

He pressed two fingers to his right eye where a painful throb had started. Did it make him a selfish prick to want her one last time? A night to engrave on his memory? He could unearth it every time the world felt like a shitty place and remember that Eliza was in it. Being with him one last time wouldn’t affect her negatively. She’d expressed to him several times her understanding of how he operated. Come on, playboy. That’s quite a line, playboy. No, she’d walk away unscathed, heart intact. The least he could do for her was live up to his end of the bargain. Make sure she never went into a situation without the armor of knowledge. God, if he couldn’t have her, he at least needed her to be safe. With someone else.

Oliver pondered the door handle, wondering if the cab was going fast enough to break any bones.

“Are you all right?” She scooted closer on the seat and took his hand. “It went great in there. You did it. She’s in.”

He pushed her hair away from her face. “That was all you, bunny. You’re incredible.”

“No, that was classic good cop, bad cop. We nailed it.” She ran a finger down the center of his chest and his lungs seized. How could he live with wanting her this bad? “You know, if you ever considered a career in law enforcement, you’d look great in the uniform.”

Her mouth looked so delicious, only a few inches away. No. If he kissed her now, they’d be at his apartment within minutes screwing on the first surface he could plant her ass on. Then it would be over. Lessons complete. His body begged for her, while the rest of him screamed: Put it off. You only get her one more time. Don’t make it a quickie in between meetings.