Page 74 of Succumbed

“Feeling ready?”

I clench my notecards tighter and frown at Lex, annoyed at her interruption. I’m in Lex’s office, leaning up against the wall by the bar cart, fifteen minutes before my interview with the Bayview Bulletin’s reporter.

“I’ll be ready if I can review all this in time,” I grouse, waving the cards. I’m harsher than I intend to be, nerves flaring.

Her cool expression isn’t a surprise as I turn my attention back to the notecards. Doing my best to ignore her presence, I attempt to read the bullet points I’d written. For the third time. But my brain won’t focus on the words, my mind tripping over the guilt and trepidation that always rise when I let myself feel an ounce of hope. It’s like my handwriting is skittering on the page, each sentence a jumble of nonsense characters.

As I’m about to turn the card over, Lex’s hand moves into my field of vision and covers my notes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Declan, you don’t need notes.”

Her voice is firm, but gentle. Placating, almost. I hate it. Hate the suggestion that she has to be the stronger one, the one in the position to comfort and guide me. I’m the strong one, goddamnit. It should be me reassuring her.

“I think I can decide for myself what I do or don’t need.”

If Shane was here, I know he’d tell me to stop acting like a toddler. Linc would roll his eyes and distract Lex, something he’s grown proficient at over the last few weeks.

Something fierce flashes in Lex’s light green eyes before she closes them briefly and takes a deep breath.

“You don’t need them. You know Solum inside and out, not only the spirit of what you’re going to accomplish, but the science of why and how. We’ve gone over your talking points, even role-played the questions. The words as you’ve written them don’t matter,” she presses.

Swallowing roughly, I turn away, my body tight. She’s dangerously close to seeing right through me, and I’m far from ready to be that vulnerable. With her more than anyone.

“Easy for you to say,” I toss over my shoulder. “This kind of thing is second nature to you, I’m sure.”

She ignores my attempt at deflection. “Speak from the heart, Declan. Tell the story only you can, with the conviction only you have. Smile. Laugh. Be self-deprecating, if that makes you feel more comfortable. But most of all, be honest and let your integrity shine through. Be you.”

Rounding on her, my lips purse. She stands a few feet away, hands in the pockets of her high-waisted trousers, relaxed and confident. Dressed head-to-toe in deep green, her eyes are almost inhumanly vibrant. So poised, so graceful. My body reacts, swaying toward her, caught in her pull. Always trapped by her gravity.

I don’t know if I’m angrier that she manages to be so calm, or that I feel so utterly out of control whenever I’m in her presence. Get it together, Dec.

“Following my heart sounds like questionable advice,” I grit out.

“Does it?”

“Without a doubt. Following my heart got us into this mess in the first place.”

She looks at me thoughtfully. “You could look at it that way, I suppose.”

Tension gathers in the silence between us. She’s so fucking good at letting silence speak for her, letting the thoughts and anxieties of the people across from her build until they can’t be contained. I’ve attempted to wait her out multiple times over the last eight weeks. I’ve yet to succeed.

“You have another perspective, I take it?” I thrust a hand toward her in invitation. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Following your heart brought you, Shane, and Lincoln together. It forged the bonds between you and gave you all purpose. Do you know how rare it is to have close relationships like that as an adult? How hard it is to find loyalty–true, unshakable loyalty that you never have to question?” Her lips quirk into a small smile. “It’d be so easy to say you’re lucky, but that’s not it at all. Your heart inspired and drove you to build more than a business.”

My chest feels tight as I stare at her, my knuckles going white as I grip the index cards. She has no right to see me–see us–so clearly. No one has ever described me as an open book, but Lex fucking Livingston reads me like a grade school primer. I desperately want to hate her for how it makes me feel. But no matter how exposed and raw I feel, I’m still drawn to her. How fucking easy would it be to give in?

“Declan, your vision, your business…it wouldn’t have survived the last year without your heart at the center. You let someone in who didn’t deserve it, once, and she did her best to take you down.” Lex shrugs, taking a step back toward the door. “You haven’t let her succeed yet. Hold that line. Show her you’re unyielding, and you’re still following your heart. Show her she hasn’t fucking broken you or your business. Show the Bay what success looks like for Declan Wilde.”

She waves a hand at the index cards as she reaches the door, looking up at me with a smirk. “Toss them.”

Shane steps into the room as she sweeps out, their eyes locking briefly. The searing look of want that passes between them is staggering, and my jaw clenches. I can’t reconcile the emotions raging through me in response to her little speech with the ugly feeling rising in my gut as I witness…whatever that is. Heartburn. It’s just fucking heartburn.

“She’s right,” Shane says as he closes the door.

“Of course you were listening.”

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