Page 22 of Shea's Hero

I didn’t think I deserved to be with Oliver back then. I’m still not sure I do.

Oliver was the strong one. Brave. Smart. He dedicated his life to making the world a safer place.

And what did I do? Worked at a job I didn’t love because I was too chicken to follow my dreams. Focused on the tiny things that seemed so important but really meant nothing. Ruined the best relationship I’ve ever had because I was?—

“Shea?” My coworker, Talia, walks over and rests her hand on the wall of my cubicle. “How’s it going?”

As I look up from my laptop, her gaze jumps to my swollen cheek. Her smile disappears and her eyes go wide. “Shea! What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” And also feeling a bit like a parrot considering how many times I’ve repeated the same thing. With a little laugh, I add, “Just a little bruise. That’ll teach me to go down in the basement without turning the lights on.”

No, I’m not telling all the people at work what really happened. My boss knows, because I needed to explain why thesecurity guards shouldn’t let anyone in to see me. And why they need to be extra cautious about visitors, making sure to double check everyone’s identification before letting them in.

But to tell all my coworkersOh, yeah, the other night? I decided to throw a chair at a would-be abductor slash criminal and I got punched as a result?Maybe not. I’d prefer to maintain my reputation as even-keeled, dependable Shea, who can always be relied on to meet deadlines and never cause any drama.

“Oh, Shea.” Talia claps her hand over her mouth. “That’s awful. And it looks so painful…”

“It’s not,” I lie, forcing my smile to stay steady. And I make a mental note to try a different concealer tomorrow, since obviously this one isn’t helping.

“Well.” She takes a second to collect herself. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch? I’m craving sushi, and there’s that place on Maple that just opened. It looks like they have some good lunch specials. What do you think?”

Normally, I’d say yes. While Talia isn’t a close friend, I enjoy spending time with her, and we’ll often get lunch or go out for happy hour on the days I come into the office. But somehow I don’t think that fits in with the wholenot going anywhere without an escortthing.

“Not today,” I reply, making an apologetic face. “I just met with a new client and I want to get going on the project. So I think I’m going to work through lunch today.”

“Okay.” A beat, and then, “What about happy hour? Janet in HR was telling me that she saw some good-looking guys at the Olde English Pub the other day. Maybe we could go take a look?”

As the only good-looking—strike that, incredibly handsome—man I can think about is currently in Sleepy Hollow, I wouldn’t be interested anyway. But I’m not in the mood to get into a long story about my ex, or why I’m not allowed to go anywhere without a bodyguard, so I cast about for a believable excuse.

“Oh, Talia, I wish I could. But I have an appointment after work. Maybe another time?”

Her smile flickers for a second before reappearing. Then understanding darkens her gaze. “Of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She pats my shoulder. “With the bruise and all. We’ll go next week instead, okay?”

“Okay.” Assuming this whole situation is resolved, that is.

“Alright.” She glances at her watch. “I’d better get going or I’ll miss the lunch specials.”

“Go,” I urge with a smile. “You’ll have to let me know how the sushi is.”

But once she’s gone, all pretense of cheer fades. I touch my cheek lightly, the bruise throbbing from the effort of smiling. A weight settles onto my chest.

And my mind wanders right back to where it was before Talia showed up.

To Oliver. To his unexpected appearance at my house last night. To the way he rushed out, like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

But then another memory slides in.

Oliver standing by the bookcase, the tips of his ears slightly pink, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he said,“I know I should have called. Texted. Not just shown up like this. But I couldn’t stop thinking?—”

Couldn’t stop thinking about what? The incident at the Hop-less Horseman? The case?

Or was it possible he was thinking about me the same way I was about him?

Is it possible?

Is there some sliver of a chance that I didn’t wreck things beyond repair?

As I scroll through my emails—not reading a single one, but at least it looks like I’m working—I think about what Nora said again. That she was too afraid to tell Jackson the truth.

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