Is she reassuring me that nothing’s changed? That nothing will? Is she saying thank you for bringing that fuck nut crawling back to her? I just don’t know.
And it’s driving me crazy.
I clench my jaw and stalk toward my own desk, slamming the door behind me. And then I pace. Like a soon-to-be father outside the delivery room, waiting to see if everything that means anything to him will come out unscathed.
I should have told her. Last night. When I had the chance. I should have explained how much she means to me. What I feel for her. I thought I had time. I figured I’d ease into it, slowly work up to it.
Stupid.
Why didn’t I just fucking tell her?
Goddamn it.
Maybe she already knows. I mean, I brought her to my apartment, I cuddled with her. I worshiped her. I fucked her without a rubber—three times. She’s got to know.
Erin quietly enters the room. I must look like a disaster, because her face is soft with sympathy. “So, Kate and Billy are talking, huh?”
I snort. “Am I that obvious?”
She opens her mouth, probably to tell me yes, but closes it and starts again. “No. I just know you, Drew.”
I nod.
“You want me to take a walk? See what I can see…or hear?”
“You think that’ll work?”
She smiles. “The CIA would be lucky to have me.”
I nod again. “Okay. Yeah. Go do that, Erin. See what’s going on.”
She walks out. And I go back to wearing a hole in the rug. And pushing my hand through my hair until it sticks up like I’ve been struck by lightning.
A few minutes later, Erin comes back. “The door’s closed, so I couldn’t hear anything, but I peeked through the glass. They’re sitting in front of her desk, facing each other. He’s got his head in his hands, and she’s listening to him talk. Her hand is on his knee.”
Okay. He’s pouring his heart out. And she’s being sympathetic. I can live with that. Because then she’s going to crush him, isn’t she? She’s going to tell him to screw off. That she’s moved on—found someone better. Right?
Right?
Christ, just fucking agree with me.
“So…what should I do?”
Erin shrugs. “All you can do is wait. And see what she says when they’re done.”
I’ve never been good at waiting. No matter how hard my parents tried, I could never wait until Christmas morning to find out what I got. I was like a mini-Indiana Jones—searching and digging until I found every single gift.
Patience may be a virtue, but it’s not one of mine.
Erin stops at the door. “I hope it works out, Drew.”
“Thanks, Erin.”
And then she leaves. And I wait. And think. I think about the look on Kate’s face when she was crying at her desk. I think about the panic she was in when she saw Warren at the bar.
Was that all I was to Kate? A distraction? A means to my own end?
I start pacing again. And praying. To a God I haven’t spoken to since I was ten years old. But I talk to him now. I promise and I swear. I barter and beg—fervently.
For Kate to choose me.
The longest ninety minutes of my life later, Erin’s voice hisses out of the intercom on my desk.
“Incoming! Incoming! Kate, nine o’clock.”
I dive across my desk, knocking pens and paperclips to the floor. I push my chair up, smooth my hair down, and shuffle some papers around so it looks like I’ve been working. Then I take a deep breath. Pull it together.
It’s game time.
Kate opens the door and walks in.
She looks…normal. Completely herself. No guilt. No anxiety. Not a care in the world.
She stands in front of my desk. “Hi.”
“Hey.” I force myself to smile casually. Even though my heart’s pounding in my chest. Kind of like a dog’s would—just before he’s put down.
I should make small talk so I don’t look too eager—too interested. But I just can’t manage it. “So…how’d things go with Billy?”
She smiles softly. “We talked. We said some things that I think we both needed to hear. And now we’re good. Really good, actually.”
God. Can you see the knife sticking out of my chest? Yeah—the one she just twisted. They talked—they’re good—really good. She took him back.
Fuck.
“That’s great, Kate. Mission accomplished, then, huh?” I should have been an actor. I deserve a goddamn Academy Award after this.
Her brow wrinkles. “Mission?”
My cell phone rings, saving me from this nightmare of a conversation.
“Hello?” It’s Steven. But Kate doesn’t know that. I force my voice to sound strong. Energized. “Hey, Stacey. Yeah, baby, I’m glad you called.”