Page 49 of Never Say Yes To Your Boss

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started off with that. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, and you’re also right. I do want to go and see my family. I want to spend time with them. But I think if you truly don’t want me to leave, I can plan to go after your surgery or before it and also be here for you. Even if you just need someone to tell you that you look like you’re drowning in the pool, to make you sandwiches, to snuggle with and watch movies in bed, or just to talk or whatever. I’ll make it work. Unless—”

“There is no unless. I want that. I want you here.” I let my hands fall to her shoulders, and I pull her up off her knees. I set her on mine instead, and she throws her arms around my neck and hangs on. She smells like sunlight, not so early mornings, my sheets, my bed, herself, and me, and I love inhaling all that. My heart physically aches at her proximity, but not in a bad way.

“I know I’ve had you for your money already,” she murmurs and sniffles into my neck, and fuck, she’s crying, and I don’t want her to cry, but she doesn’t sound sad exactly, so maybe she’s okay. Ugh, I’m total shit with this. “But I’d like to have you for more than that. Just as you.”

“Well, just as me might not be so great because, as you can see, I seem to be quite a numbskull when it comes to knowing how to navigate this.”

“Considering how mad I got when you were just trying to care about me, I’d say we’re equally matched.”

She finally backs up, and the sight of her tearstained cheeks with those silvery gold tracks and the sunlight spilling over her whole face and glistening eyes, the almost smile on her lips, hermussed hair, and her body, which is still almost sleep warm, makes me dizzy. Something special wraps around me—a feeling of peace I haven’t had for a long time, except when I’m with Everleigh.

What would it be like to trust in another person? To put your life into their hands, to even want to think about doing that, and to want to do a lot of stuff together.

I don’t know, but I want to find out. I want to find out if we can make contracts and arranged marriages and romance, loving grandmas aside.

“Everleigh, I’d like to ask you out on a date,” I announce solemnly. The effect of my seriousness is probably lost because I’m also fresh from sleep myself and sitting here in boxers on the rumpled bed. Maybe that’s what makes her eyes shine when she looks at me—the unguarded, wholesome truthfulness of the moment. “And I’d like there to be other dates after. Proper ones. Here, or somewhere else. I’d also like to visit your family. Yes, even if I have to be sedated or partially sedated to get there. I’m going to keep working on it, though. I’ve got some books to read and some videos to watch, and maybe I’ll even break down and talk to someone. But not to fix my head,” I say before she can cut in and tell me I don’t need to do that. “Just to help with the panic, control it, and keep it to a manageable level. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to ride in a vehicle without freaking out, but maybe one day. And that would open up a lot of possibilities.”

“Well, until then, I’m perfectly fine with the options open to us now. You look like you might need a walking partner, so if the position is open, I’d like to apply.”

I’ve been on my own for so long that I forgot what this feels like. How to be strong for someone and how to be a united unit. I’ve never really had that with anyone before because the relationships I had before the accident weren’t serious. Definitely not share my life with someone kind of serious.

“The position is all yours.”

The expression on her face as she watches me is so pure that it makes my heart wrench and ache and throb. I feel like it could tear out and go soaring out the window to find the source of that sunshine.

“I’d like to accept it, then. And I accept your date idea. Do you think we can forget we’re married and just have fun?” she asks.

“I think so. I’d like to do that. Have fun with you and date you. I’d like to keep doing what we’ve been doing, which is being friends. And more, now, if you want to continue that trend.”

She nods bravely. “There doesn’t need to be an expiry date on this. Even if your brother kind of tricked me and stood in for you, I got something pretty good in exchange, and I’m not talking about the money, the usage of the private jet, the wardrobe full of clothes that I didn’t expect to like, or even this big old house I didn’t think I’d like either, or even Hans. I’m talking about you.”

“Hans will be so disappointed,” I reply, grinning.

She laughs, a bubbly sound that is pure joy, and I’m not disappointed I got her to produce that for me. “Where is he really from anyway?”

Hans would be extra disappointed if I gave his secret away since he takes such joy from the fake accents, so I use his favorite line, the one I’ve heard him utter over and over again. “Oh, a little of here, a little of there.”

Everleigh rolls her eyes and swats me on the shoulder. “You, sir, need to be punished for the amount of sarcasm you think is okay to use. Also, I need to punish you because you don’t have a permit.”

“For what?” I ask cautiously. She’s being playful now, and I can only imagine.

“For having an unleashed beast in your shorts.” Her eyes drop. “Or, well, your towel.”

“Oh Christ.” I didn’t know it was possible to blush this hard. “I’m sorry about that. I really—”

“Don’t apologize,” she whispers near my ear as she leans against me and pushes me down onto the bed. I hang my legs over the side and let her straddle my chest and push me into the bed. She kisses me thoroughly and spectacularly, and I’m reminded that we have approximately zero condoms left.

“I’m going to have to take a long walk to the store to get more supplies before we can do it again,” I say to her.

Everleigh smirks at me and kisses my lips, my cheeks, my chin, and then back to my mouth. The kiss is fire this time, and all my afternoon meetings are going to have to be rescheduled as well. But I’m not sorry at all.

“I could take my car and go get something later.” She scrapes her teeth over my bottom lip, and I nearly jackknife off the bed. She holds on, wrapping her legs around my waist as I sit up. “But where would the fun be in that? It’s a nice day, and a long walk filled with stimulating conversation sounds like an excellent first-date idea. How about this evening?”

“This evening? It’s now the middle of the morning. What are we going to do until then?”

She’s all soft as she reaches down and takes my hands in hers, holding them between us. She’s balanced on my lap, but she’s also relying on me to keep her firm and steady. I’m always going to be there to do that for her. To keep her solid and support her. And inevitably, when I fall on my ass, I know she’ll be there to joke about it, make rug burn challenges, and make the best of it without making me feel like a total dork.

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