How to Fail at Flirting(69)

My voice cracked. “Because I’m broken, okay? I’m a broken goddamned mess. It’s been years and I can’t let it go and I am sick to death of being scared. And the job we’re talking about is the only place I’m worth a damn, and if I don’t have that, I don’t know what I am.” I gulped in a breath. “I’m fucked-up, Jake. I’ve been trying to hide it from you, but I can’t lose the only thing I’m good at, the only place I matter. I’m broken, but I have this one thing, this one place, where I feel whole.”

Jake’s face was horror-struck, his features frozen. He tried to pull me into a hug, but I shied away. Pity bled into the edges of his expression, and my stomach soured. “You matter to me. We can fix—”

“You can’t put me back together.”

He raised his voice, trying to talk over my interruption. “I’m trying to say we can fix—”

I exploded at him. “I’m not some problem you can just fix!”

When he slapped his open palm against the doorframe, the sharp crack of skin against wood filled the space and I jumped back, the hairs on my arms standing on end. “Damnit, Naya. I’m not trying to fix you. I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you!”

He pulled his hand back as if the wood were hot, realizing the power with which he’d hit the frame, the violence in the act. “I’m sorry.” His voice softened. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to yell that and scare you. I didn’t even plan to say it yet, but I am head-over-fucking-heels in love with you, Naya.” He raised his palms, slowly bringing them to my face as if giving me the chance to push him away. When I didn’t, he cupped my face gently in his hands. “I love you.”

He’s in love with me.

I’m overreacting.

“Sweetheart, you’re overreacting, just like always.”

He’s in love with me.

I slid my hands to his wrists, and his expression shifted to something resembling hopeful—not a smile, but the tension dissipated, and he searched my face before meeting my eyes.

“Naya, I . . . You’re not broken. I want you to feel whole. I want you to feel whole with me. You’re perfect. You’re everything.” His fingertips were warm against my skin. His voice was almost a whisper. “Will you say something?”

Calm down and say it back. I love you, too. I wanted to say it, more than anything, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“What was the second thing?” I asked, my voice small.

“What?”

“You said you had two things to tell me. What was the other one?”

Just tell me the second thing doesn’t matter. Give me a reason to let this go.

His face blanched.

No. No. No.

“When Carlton called . . . it was to let me know he let it slip to President Lewis about you and me when they had lunch yesterday.”

My mouth dried, and I closed my eyes. My hands fell from his wrists. “He let it slip. What does that mean?”

Jake spoke quickly, the words spilling out. “Lewis wanted to know why we’d structured the process the way we had, with the two teams—he was curious—and Carlton mentioned we were in a relationship. He assumed Flip knew, that you or your boss had told him. I thought you had, I swear.”

Damn it! This was my fault, and it was too late.

Jake reached for my arm, and I whipped it away and pressed my palms to my eyes. “I told you, I fucking told you this would be an issue, and you wouldn’t listen.” The rage was stirring inside me, but I had nowhere to point it except at Jake, who stood in front of me, crestfallen. “You kept telling me it would be fine, it would be okay, and now, look. It’s not okay and it’s not fine. Do you have any idea how bad this is? Not only am I going to lose my job or be put in a corner somewhere, my reputation will be in the garbage, again. And your company—”

His expression was muddled between frustration, sympathy, and affection. “I’m not worried about my damn company right now. This isn’t us, Nay. This is work. Can we . . .” His gaze moved to the ceiling before his palms slid down to my shoulders, then down and up my arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t take it as seriously as you did. But, God, can we just stop and talk it through? We can work it out together. I know we can.” He locked eyes with me. “We can, Nay. Please.”

I wanted to melt into him, to rest my head against his hard chest and listen to his heartbeat. I wanted all those things, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that falling for him was what had landed me here. The years of sacrificing everything for work were about to be meaningless, again, because I let myself get wrapped up with a guy. But he’s not just a guy; he’s the guy. That was worse because I’d promised to never put a man ahead of my career, and here I was.

His brows dipped, and I almost leaned into him before my spine straightened and I jerked away. Years. I’d rebuilt my career from the ashes of Davis’s slander. I cursed myself for ignoring my gut telling me this relationship was wrong. There I was, standing in front of the man I loved, hearing it might all burn down again.

Sweetheart, you’re overreacting, just like always.

“This may be your work, but it’s my life. It’s everything I’ve worked for. It’s everything I’ve sacrificed for. It’s my whole life.”