He spun on his heel and walked away before he could cause any more embarrassment, for himself or for anyone else. He was in his office, trying to work out why he was unable to refrain from spilling his deepest darkest secrets whenever he thought about, or talked about, Becca, when she walked into his office.
“What the hell was that?” she hissed. She waved her arm in the general direction of the reception area.
Drew wasn’t certain how to respond, so he just stared at her. This was the first time she’d ever been in his office alone, and with the door closed at that. Usually if she needed him, she’d stop by and stand just outside the door for long enough to impart the information he needed. Even when they’d still been dating, she’d never come into his office; although he’d fantasied about it often enough. Back then, he’d spent more time than he cared to admit dreaming up all the ways he could use the different office furniture to his best advantage and draw those perfect moans of pure pleasure from her throat. He blinked at her in rapid succession as he tried to will away his sudden erection.
“Are you trying to embarrass me? Get me fired? Is this some sort of sick payback?”
He frowned, but it was about all he could do as he took in Becca’s red face and high-pitched voice. Her green eyes flashed with rage and he was powerless in the face of her reaction. It was the first time he’d ever really felt her claws. The whole time they’d dated, she’d been almost meek—willing to sacrifice so much for him. It occurred to him, for perhaps the first time ever that he really didn’t know Becca all that well. At least, not this new, real Becca who was so different to the idealized one he’d loved for so long in his own mind.
“I know things didn’t go the way you planned—the way either of us planned. God, if I knew then what I know now, I would have made sure nothing ever happened so we could stay friends. I care about you, Drew. I know you might not believe me, but I do. And goddammit, you cannot do this! Not here. This job may not be my life’s ambition, but damned if I want to lose it!”
“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to cut through Becca’s anger.
“Why?” she asked again, her voice imploring and desperate.
He stood from his office chair and turned his back on her. That left him inches away from a plain, white expanse, but he couldn’t look at her. Now she’d lost the initial heat she’d shown, the flush on her cheeks and the heaving of her chest filled his mind with images that would only lead to more trouble. More than anything else in that moment, he needed to keep his verbal spillage issues under control, which meant not looking at her or thinking about her.
He fisted his hands in his hair as he tried to will away the thoughts. He needed to give Becca a reason for his outburst—an outburst that could easily see him sued for sexual harassment—but he didn’t have one. All he had was a headful of inspiration, which wouldn’t have been out of place in a Playboy magazine.
The truth was, he didn’t really want Becca that way anymore. He didn’t even want to want her. Someone else was starting to take up residence in his mind, someone equally as taboo, but his unimaginative mind just couldn’t fill in the blanks well enough to give him the one image he was starting to crave with a maddening desperation. He was fine at extrapolating known data to build realistic scenarios in his mind, but to come up with an image entirely from scratch was something he hadn’t needed to do since high school. Even then, he’d never been good at make-believe and pretend. So now, when his body craved Amity beneath him, wild and wanton, his mind offered up the next best thing, Becca.
“Are you going to answer me?” Becca’s voice was almost silent, broken just as it had been when she’d uttered her apology for loving someone else.
He exhaled shakily. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you’re going to answer me?” The anger was back in force.
He spun back around but couldn’t meet her gaze. “No, I don’t know why I said it. I don’t know why half the crazy stuff that has happened to me lately has been happening. First, I find you on the very first day I arrive back in town, and we have a moment that is everything I dreamed of having with you when I was younger. I could barely believe my luck that you were unattached and as interested as I was. So of course, I throw myself into the relationship, thinking that everything is fantastic except for the fact that you have this guy hanging around you almost constantly. Someone with an ulterior motive that I tried to warn you about time and time again but that you refused to listen to.”
“That’s not fair. Evan didn’t . . . He wasn’t . . .” She frowned at him before signaling for him to continue, no doubt realizing she couldn’t argue the fact that Drew had been right about Evan’s motives all along.
“Then, just when I think we might have a genuine future, just when I lease a house so we can spend more time together in a space of my own, I find out that you’re in love with him as well. I knew how he felt, but I never guessed you would do that to me. To us. I should have known though. You spent so much time defending his motives. So much time defending him. I should have seen it sooner. Cathy did, you know. She knew all along. She even tried to warn me, but I was just too blinded to see it.”
“Drew, I—”
He cut her off, refusing to allow her to try to take the moment away from him. It was his chance to tell her everything he felt, something he’d been unable to do so far. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that he had to let her go, and in order to do that, he needed closure. Then he wouldn’t let her have a hold over him anymore. “And then when I think things have finally reached the lowest point that they can reach, my car starts fucking up and I end up with some odd inability to keep my private thoughts private. So to answer your question, I have no idea why I said what I said other than the fact that things have been going from bad to worse ever since I arrived back in Flint, and I don’t know how to stop things from getting even worse.”
“Wow, I . . . I had no idea.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” You’ve been far too cozy in your little love-nest with Evan. “Let’s just say that if it wasn’t for Amity, I probably would have gone completely insane by now.”
“Amity?” Becca’s brow furrowed and he could see her trying to match the name to a face. There were no Amitys that she would know though. He could tell she wanted to ask for more information, but decided he’d rather let her stew on it. She didn’t deserve his generosity after the way things had ended between them, even if he had just made an ass of himself at her expense.
He crossed his arms, leaned against the wall and nodded.
Becca huffed. “Okay. Amity. Good. I’m glad you found Amity, but you can’t pull any more crap like you just did. Seriously, you’ll get us both fired. If Mr. O’Brien complains, I won’t take the fall for you.”
Her assumption made Drew’s eye twitch and jaw clench. It wasn’t like he’d expected her to lie for him. In fact, he would probably be incapable of carrying out that sort of deception at the moment anyway, not with all of his truths on the very tip of his tongue just waiting to spill forth.
“I never asked you to.”
She scowled at him for a moment, but then her expression softened. “Is it always going to be like this between us?”
He could have asked, “Like what?”, but he knew exactly what she meant. And he didn’t have any real answer, so he just shrugged.
“I—I don’t want it to be,” the words spilled from Becca in a rush. “I really hope we can be friends one day.”
Staring at her, at her pleading eyes and small, hopeful smile, Drew wanted to assure her that they might get back there, but the truth was he couldn’t see that path. He couldn’t see a day when they’d be in the room together and it wouldn’t feel like his heart was trying to claw its way out of his body through his throat. It should have been easy to form the words, “Me too,” to give her that little white lie to help ease the trouble he’d stirred within her, but they wouldn’t come.
When a beat too long had passed and he still hadn’t said anything, the tiny smile that had curled the corner of Becca’s mouth fell. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was stopped by a knock on Drew’s office door.
“I’m sorry, Becca, I’m going to have to go. And again, I apologize for what happened before. I was out of line, and I’ll try to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Becca huffed, and it was clear the conversation wasn’t over—she would be back to deliver another piece of her mind at a later time. Thankfully though, she must have decided it wasn’t worth the continued hassle at that point. She spun on the spot before striding from the room without a backward glance, leaving the door wide open in her wake.
Drew pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how to even start to fix the little issue he’d been having.
I was so certain I was getting on top of this.
For the last two weeks, the attacks, or whatever they were, had been happening less frequently—but something about Becca stirred it all back up again. She was the key, he was certain of it.
“Come in,” Drew called to whoever it was outside his office when they didn’t enter as Becca left.
When after a moment he still had no extra company, he lifted his head in confusion.
As if waiting for his attention as her cue to arrive, Amity strode into his office as if she owned it. With her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, and another perfect tank top which made his trousers tight—purple this time rather than lipstick pink—she was a vision. Exactly what he needed to see after his encounter with Becca.
“You ready?” she asked.
Drew frowned. He couldn’t remember them making any daytime plans. So far, all of their dates had been at night, long after the day was behind him, or on his days off. “For?”
Amity giggled. “Lunch, silly.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I’m taking you out for lunch. You must get sick of cafeteria food all the time.”
“Well, yeah, but . . .”
“But what?”
“It’s just that your timing couldn’t have been better if you’d planned it.” He shook his head, marking it down to a coincidence. Then he offered her his arm, ready to head out.
Alarm bells were sounding in Amity’s head. She was really pushing her luck when it came to Drew. She needed to back off, but instead, she seemed to be rushing headlong toward him faster than ever. She was feeling things she shouldn’t have been feeling, and not just because he was human. He was damaged, hurting, and she was daydreaming about breaking many, many years of celibacy in a number of varied and interesting ways. At least ten of which involved the weight bench she’d conjured for him. Seeing him on the black bench, half-naked and straining as he lifted ever increasing weights sent her mind straight into the gutter and made it almost impossible to have any thoughts that didn’t involve them both shedding their clothing.
She’d raced to the hospital as soon as she’d detected his anger—zipping to the space outside his office door in a fraction of a second. She listened as he spoke with Becca, and wrapped her grace around his mind listening for any sign he was about to crack the way Rose’s husband had so many years ago.
Instead, he’d taken the opportunity to heal himself a little more. Amity smiled to herself as he took a few big strides toward acceptance and understanding—the two things he needed to find to be in a position where he could heal and then maybe even find someone new to focus on.
The thought sent her smile tumbling into a frown. She didn’t think he was ready for anyone else just yet. At least, she wasn’t ready for him to be with anyone else just yet. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened with Becca, after all, and if he was going to fall for anyone else, it should be someone who brought out the best in him. The silly, laughing-at-animated-trolls best in him. Amity stopped the train of thought in its tracks—it was dangerous to let herself think that way. She wouldn’t be the only one to face Heaven’s repercussions if Michael found out how she felt about a human.
After pulling herself up, Amity had continued to listen to the conversation. She’d debated rescuing Drew from Becca, but didn’t when it sounded like he didn’t need her help. She’d only intervened after Drew had said her name. It had shocked her to the core when Drew had given her so much credit for keeping him sane. She’d known she was helping, but for Drew to say he would have gone crazy if not for her . . .
Well, she almost didn’t believe it. Except he couldn’t lie—the tear in his soul might have been slowly healing, but it was still there, and the interference of her grace’s lingering presence still pushed him into speaking only the truth.
After hearing her name, she’d knocked. Not because of any concern she had that things might get nasty, but because she genuinely wanted to spend some more time with Drew and was going slightly insane over the fact that Becca was in the room alone with him. The fact was that Amity desired Drew’s attention more than she should have. She’d interrupted Becca and Drew in what could have been a healing conversation, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to care.
He’d stirred compassion in her that had lain dormant for years. It terrified her just as much as it fascinated her. So when he’d offered her his arm, she’d taken it willingly—albeit carefully so she didn’t touch his bare skin with hers.
“So what’s on the menu?” she asked Drew.
“You tell me since you’re the one who instigated this lunch date.”
“Yeah, but you know the area better than I do.”
“There’s a little deli up the road. We could get some sandwiches.”
They walked in a companionable silence. Amity assumed Drew was still lost in thought over what had transpired between him and Becca. She could have confirmed it by brushing her grace against his soul again, but she had an urge to do things the old-fashioned way—with instinct and guidance.
“So what exactly did I interrupt back there?” Amity asked after they’d grabbed their food and settled at the only spare table in the tiny diner.
Drew snorted. “Nothing good.”
Amity waited for Drew to elaborate with a raised brow to let him know she wanted more. When he started talking again, he told a tale of word vomit that left Amity cringing through her fingers and laughing along with Drew.
“She must hate me,” Drew said as his chuckling subsided.
“At least you can laugh about it now.”
“When I was stuck in that office with her, I didn’t think I would ever be able to. I have you to thank for that.” He leaned forward, and slipped his hand forward across the table, as if he was going to reach for her. Before he could, she smoothly dropped her hands into her lap.
Even though the thought of holding his hand terrified her for the pain it might cause, her stomach twisted in a not altogether unpleasant way at the thought that he’d made the attempt. She wanted to let him, but she didn’t want to feel the pain of humanity. There was more than that though; her brewing desire was alarming her more by the minute. Part of her wanted nothing more than to flee at the mere thought of how desperately she wanted to let him hold her hand.
“I haven’t really done anything,” she said.
He frowned as he looked at the place her hand had been. “I think we both know that isn’t true.”
The way he looked at her made the air in the small deli thicken to the consistency of tar. She didn’t need the oxygen, but she still felt the struggle to breathe as acutely as any human might.
“You’re probably going to be missed if you’re not back soon,” she said, pushing away from the table in a desperate attempt to break the tension.
He eyed her barely-touched sandwich before pushing his own away. “Yeah. I guess.”
Before she’d had a chance to say anything more, or reduce the impact of her obviously too abrupt change in topic, he’d cleared off the table, tossed everything in the bin and was pushing the door open to leave the small
space.
“Drew, wait,” she called out as she followed him out. She caught up to him easily despite his long-pacing strides. “Don’t run away from me. Please.”
The instant her hand touched his shoulder, he spun around. His face was a blank mask, but his eyes practically screamed with the pain he was hiding. “I’m not running.”
He turned and started pacing back toward the hospital again.
She sighed. “Drew—”
“Just don’t worry about it,” he threw back at her over his shoulder.
“I am worried about it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your friend.”
He stopped and sighed. “Yeah. That’s right. Friend.”
Amity could tell that something had shifted between them, and maybe that shift had set him backward, but she didn’t know how to fix it other than to give him space.
“I need to remember that,” he muttered under his breath before moving on again.
Maybe the hands-on approach isn’t as effective as I’d hoped.
Chapter Thirteen
Friend.
The word rattled around Drew’s head all afternoon, long after Amity had left him after their disastrous lunch. Her words had been the reminder he needed that they were friends. Just friends. That was all they were, and all they could be. Her friendship was a big part of the reason he’d been feeling better lately, but he was still recovering from a broken heart for fuck’s sake. The last thing he needed was an awkward situation at home as well as at work.
It was just that . . . well, they’d been getting along so well that he’d all but convinced himself that she felt something for him too. Maybe not love, it was too early for that, but something more than friendship.
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