Page 86 of Love Not Qualified

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “The entire trip, and Mr. Graves, this question is part of the ‘inappropriate comments’ category.”

“True, but we’re also not in Los Angeles just yet,” I said matter of factly.

“Ugh,” she grunted, turning with her back to me. “I’ll rectify for you: we should start acting professional starting now.” She pressed her tongue on the roof of her mouth on the last word, then drew a crossword sword with her palms.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her adorable posture—with her legs stuffed to her chest. “Sure, but as a professional boss, I’d like to know when exactly I eye-fucked you so next time, I know to hide it better.”

When my eyes caught a glimpse of her face, heat rose to her cheeks, but she quickly turned her head away, treating me with her back. From a side glance, I noticed her middle finger lifting in the air.

She wasn’t going to reply to me, that I knew for sure because both of us knew the answer already.

I was eye-fucking her every time, though I didn’t think she noticed.

THIRTY-ONE

HAELYN

I should’ve been relieved he gave up so easily, that he didn’t put up a battle or ask any more questions, that he just took whatever I had to say with no comment to contradict me, nor try to change my mind.

Instead, I found myself glancing out the window, my chest heaving.

Truth was, I was angry at myself for wanting him to stop the car and tell me he didn’t mean what he said. I needed him to kiss me and tell me all the right things I was desperate to hear coming out of his mouth. I wanted him to see through my lies, lies I’d said out loud to protect my heart. Because inside me, I knew I’d take anything he was willing to give.

That only made me angrier.

No.

He said what he said and that meant zero chances for us. No more attraction, no more dark wishes, no more dreams about him. I was done with it.

Keeping a professional relationship was the best decision—I knew that—and he knew that too if he agreed with no sign of a fight. I wasn’t going to be just another fun night for him, or the simple woman he slept with because he found herattractive enough, not even an ordinary assistant who he fucks and discharges.

Deep down, in the vastest part of me, I was aware we were never going to work. Not only because of my principles, but because he seemed like he was never going to commit to anyone and I wasn’t willing to fix him just so he could discard me and find his love story with another.

That’s what always happened with broken things: they got fixed, then someone else—not the mender—loved them. And truth was, Mr. Graves was as broken as I was, and one thing I knew for certain: we weren’t going to repair each other. We were only going to do more damage.

So I did my best to ignore my stupid heart, which was beating its way out of my ribcage in a desperate attempt to reach his, longing for a chance. My stomach curled and butterflies escaped at the mere masculine smell of him and in that moment, I wished I could never breathe so I didn’t inhale his addictive scent.

I wished I was immune to him, to all of him. To the way his rare smile made my insides flip, or the shiver one single look sent down my spine, even to the burning heat of his presence. They were all affecting me in the worst way possible.

We weren’t made for each other. We were some simple adults attracted to one another, but nothing more. And because we were adults, we could cooperate and not cross that line ever again.

Or at least that was what I was trying to tell my brain so I could cope with the loss of something I’ve never had nor ever will.

While the smart part of me settled on the idea that Mr. Graves and I were over, the other part was acting stubborn. It displayed moments with us in my mind as if wishing us to fail and allow a single slip to bring our fantasies to life.

“We’re here.” His deep, low voice made my eyes shoot open. Unlike the past few days, his tone sounded as cold as an iceberg, and I wasn’t sure if I hated it or if I was glad he was keeping his part of the bargain.

I decided I was grateful.

Good.

But I also despised it.

I dropped my feet on the car mat, stretching my hands to slip my shoes back in. His eyes watched me closely, burning spots everywhere they ran on my skin and I offered him my profile, not wanting to give him a chance to talk this through.

Staying meant being close to giving in.

My lips formed a smile. “Thank you for the trip again. I had a great time.” I said what I had to say to not make things weird between us.

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