Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(29)

She closed her mouth, opened it, and said, “You’re not wrong. I do. But—”

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to her mouth. “You don’t want to want me, because you think it’s a horrible idea, and that I’m going to hurt you like all the guys before me.”

“Right,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. “And you’re my boss, so when that happens, it’ll be even worse. That’s why it’s a terrible idea.”

When he hurt her. Not if.

She was so certain that’s how they would end, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that—besides the fact that he didn’t like it. “All great ideas start with bad ones. No one gets it right all the time.”

She swallowed. “But this is all happening so fast, and—”

“It’s not, though.” He removed his finger from her soft, kissable lips. Lips he couldn’t have. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day you started working for me. You walked into my office with your hair down. You wore that black skirt, and a blue blouse, with a pair of black heels. Do you remember what you said to me?”

A small sound escaped her, and she stared at him as if she couldn’t believe he remembered what she wore that day. “I think I told you my name, and informed you that I intended to be the best researcher you’d ever met.”

“I think you’ve become that.” He smiled. “That’s how you made this happen tonight. You researched, right?”

“Seriously. I was just trying to give you a good night,” she said quickly. “It was nothing.”

“If you want it to be nothing,” he said slowly, locking gazes with her. “It can be nothing. Or, it can be something.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you don’t want more, I’ll make sure you never find out how much I want to kiss you again, or how it’s all I think about. I’ll stop telling you that what you did for me tonight means something, something real, and I’ll act like I don’t give a shit.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m good at that. I’ve had a lot of practice at hiding what I think and feel.”

“I’d never want that.” She shook her head. “Don’t hide your feelings from me.”

He smiled slightly. “Fine. You want honesty?”

“Uh…” She hesitated, but nodded. “Sure. Go for it.”

“In just these few short days, you’ve made me feel things I wasn’t sure I could anymore, and I think you could do a hell of a lot more, if we both let you.”

“Benjamin—”

“I know. I know.” He let go of her. “You’re not interested. But I had to say it. For the first time in years, I want to lay it all out there, in the open for all to see, because you deserve nothing less.”

“Why do you feel like you have to hide your emotions at all?” she asked.

He sucked in a breath, watching her. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this conversation.

She must have seen the panic in his eyes. “Never mind. It’s—”

“No.” He reached out and rested a hand on hers. “My father had a heart attack. While they rushed him to the hospital, I was out drinking and getting laid. I didn’t even make it home before he died, and ever since, I’ve been trying to make up for that. I never will, but it doesn’t keep me from trying.”

She watched him closely, as if everything suddenly made sense to her. As if she understood him better now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. And that uncertainty in the face of opening up to someone was what a real date was supposed to be like. “That wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing he would die that night.”

She was wrong. It was his fault. “It doesn’t matter. That’s in the past. I want to talk about now.” He cupped her cheek and gave her a small smile. “And right now? I want you. I want you so damn bad it hurts. And not just because I want to f*ck you. I want all of you, Maggie.”

“I…” Her lids drifted shut, and she let out a small, almost broken sound. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Something stabbed him in the chest, sending a piercing phantom pain throughout his body. He’d known she didn’t want him, but it still hurt. “Do you want me to take it back? To pretend this conversation never happened?”

“I—no.” She hesitated, but shook her head. “I don’t want that at all.”

A strong surge of gratification rushed through him. He’d given her an out, and she hadn’t taken it. “How about this? We treat this whole going out and spending time together like a real thing between us—not romantic, necessarily, but friends. I like you, Maggie, and I want to be your friend.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded once. “I’d like that, Benjamin.”

“Then let’s be real with one another and see where things go. If they turn romantic, we’ll deal with that when it comes.” He shrugged. “But if we stay just friends for the rest of our lives, and only friends, I’m fine with that, too. But I’m not going to lie. I’m hoping for more. And I think you are, too.”

And he would stop at nothing to make sure they both got what they wanted.

She bit the corner of her lower lip. “This thing wouldn’t work. You’re from a different world than I am. We might be able to make it work for the short-term, fake engagement, but real feelings? It would never hold. Statistically speaking, we’re—”