Page 113 of Playing Flirty

He nodded, his eyes turning shiny. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, anything.”

“If I’d done it differently—if I’d come to more game nights or if I’d pulled you into my office that night and locked the door—if I’d made you a priority back then, would it have changed things?”

Gazing off in the general direction of my old office building, I shook my head. “No, it wouldn’t have.” I glanced back atPatrick, knowing he needed the truth but not wanting to hurt him—which was exactly why I hadn’t answered his proposal sooner. “I think it would have delayed the inevitable. We weren’t meant for each other.”

My heart beat in time with the words flowing through my mind:I was meant for another.

Standing, Patrick rubbed his hands over his face and composed himself.

I continued. “Soon, you’ll meet someone who excites you as much as your work, and you won’t need to try to remember her. She’ll be there on your mind all the time, and she’ll be lucky to have you.”

I meant every word because I finally knew what that feeling was like—and it wasn’t this.

Digging into my pocket, I retrieved the ring box and handed it to him. “Thank you for everything, but I should go.” I stood and made my way toward the exit.

“Rose,” he called.

I paused.

“Did you ever make that spreadsheet?”

“Of course I did.”

“I had that many cons?” He brought his hand up and placed it over his heart, feigning hurt.

“Just one.” I sighed, surprising myself with the words I was about to say. “Excel can’t solve everything.”

He bowed his head as I left.

I hurried out of his building, preparing myself for an onslaught of regret.

But it never came.

The birds were still chirping, and the person struggling to parallel park was still struggling.

And I was still undeniably in love with William Ashdern.

And I wouldn’t survive a minute longer without telling him this.

I rushed over to William’s apartment and knocked on the door, but no one answered. I tried calling, but his phone was off. Eventually, I called Shaun, who was still at work.

“I’m looking for William. Can you tell me where he is?”

“Oh… Uh, I can’t,” Shaun replied.

“Help me,” I said, pulling out the last syllable. “You owe me.”

“I owe him too,” Shaun grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s at work. He’s working on something really urgent and struggling to meet a super-important deadline.” Shaun sounded almost proud of his brother.

“William?”

“Uh-huh.”

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