Page 11 of Always

“Fine. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Won’t be the last, either,” I mutter.

“Say it, then.”

“Fuck off,” I grit out.

He nods. “Great. Now that you got that off your chest, I need you to level with me. What the hell is going on? I’ve never seen you as twitterpated over a woman—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “Don’t ever use the word ‘twitterpated’ to refer to me again.”

“Bray, that’s what you are. You’re crazy about Skye. I never thought I’d see the day. And now there’s trouble in paradise and it’s worming its way into your work. That’s not you, bro, and frankly, I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be.”

“Oh, okay.” He rolls his eyes. “If you say so, I won’t be concerned.”

Skye. Just thinking about her sends a ripple of something through me. Longing, perhaps? No. It’s something more akin to a bitter cocktail of regret and unfulfilled promise.

And I’m full of shit.

It’s love, pure and simple. Love like I’ve never known. Love I never wanted but it thrust itself on me anyway.

“It’s obvious you’re in love with her,” Ben continues, as if he’s reading my mind. “The way you talk about her, the way you look when you mention her name. It’s like she’s the last piece of your puzzle, the one thing that makes everything else make sense.”

I hate when Ben gets all philosophical. But I can’t ignore the sting of truth in his words. Skye has become more than just a woman to me. She is a symbol of everything I never thought Iwanted but now need desperately.

But can’t have.

Not until she knows herself better.

“We won’t work,” I say succinctly, wishing I’d ordered a Wild Turkey. I said no to the server because I just had two at the bar.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because she’s not ready. It’s that simple.”

“She is pretty young.”

“It has nothing to do with her age,” I say.

“Are you sure about that?”

Am I?

She’s only twenty-four years old, eleven years my junior. But she’s an adult. A college graduate. A talented photographer who knows what she wants out of life.

Who among us doesn’t have some unresolved issues?

God knows I do.

So she wants to be choked. She’s punishing herself. That’s not a damned crime.

But I’m not a therapist, damn it. I can’t help her through her issues. That’s not who I am.

I’m a businessperson. I find solutions. I don’t get emotional.

Except I’ve gotten emotional.

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