Page 50 of Even if It Hurts

But no matter how many times I chanted he hadn’t meant anything by it, my heart screamed louder and louder until my logical side was drowned out and a small smile was creeping across my face.

Clearing my throat, I asked, “I heard what my aunt Ada was supposed to tell you...what did she end up saying?”

“Even though she knew it wasn’t what you wanted, a lot of people you respect were trying to force you back to something they thought was best for you. And she wasn’t sure you were going to be able to fight them much longer.”

A defeated breath tumbled from me. “Got it.”

“And now you aren’t sleeping,” he added pointedly.

I didn’t bother telling him that wasn’t why I couldn’t sleep—he clearly already knew. And I could already see him readying to come back withHonesty, Miss Pearsonif I tried.

“What was she supposed to tell me?” At the questioning hum that left me, Asher clarified, “You said you knew what Ada was supposed to tell me.”

“That yesterday was my last day,” I confessed after wavering for a moment. “But until you fire me, I’ll be there. Things will...” I exhaled slowly as bits and pieces of multiple arguments assaulted me. “Things will eventually calm down.”

A few seconds passed before he said, “I don’t want you trapped in this battle because you feel obligated to be here.”

“Is that you trying to fire me again?” I asked, the words leaving me on a gentle tease in response to the deceptive whisper of relief in his voice.

The hushed, gravelly sound of his laugh filled the phone and had my smile widening.

“Kaia isn’t an obligation,” I went on. “Those expectations I told you about—the role I can’t make myself step into—thoseare obligations.”

“Still...tell me if it gets to be too much,” he said with a compassion I wouldn’t have expected from him.

I wanted to assure him it wouldn’t. That, even after only three days with her, I knew I’d always show up for Kaia, no matter the day or time. But I was worried the sincerity in my voice would come across too strong because it wasn’t just Kaia I wanted to be there for, so I simply said, “I should let you get back to bed.”

A grunt sounded before he reminded me, “I called you, Miss Pearson.”

“That you did,” I murmured as another smile stole across my face.

In the middle of the night, just to talk—not for an emergency. And it had that traitorous pounding of my heart beating so loud, I wondered if he could hear it through the phone.

“Try to get some sleep,” he gently commanded.

I wasn’t sure there was any hope for sleeping after this. Not with how light I felt. Not with all the wings taking flight in my stomach. Not with how I was already overthinking things IknewI shouldn’t be thinking about or entertaining at all.

So, I just said, “Good night, Mr. Briggs.”

“Miss Pearson,” he said in parting before ending the call.

I clutched my phone to my chest for long moments after, as if I was a young teenager and not almost twenty-five years old. But within seconds, the crushing weight of guilt followed.

Because I hadn’t been so swept up in a call since all those late-night chats with Jackson when we were in high school—when he was the epitome ofswoon-worthyin the way he acted and the things he said.

But even in all those moments where I’d been swept off my feet by Jackson McCoy, I’d never quite felt like this.

And I felt like an idiot for feeling that way because nearly the entire conversation with Asher had been professional, only some of it toeing the line into what might be considered friend-territory.

But he’d laughed that soft, raspy sound, and I knew a man like Asher Briggs didn’t laugh often. I’d heard the smile in his voice when that man was perpetually angry. And it’d made me want to be the reason he smiled. It’d made me want to earn more of his laughs.

And all of it terrified and thrilled me. It made me want to explore this new possibility while also wanting to run far from it as guilt threatened to drown me.

As I tossed my phone on the nightstand, I wondered if I would be entertaining thoughts of Asher at all if things had never gotten strained between Jackson and me—if the man who’d been in my parents’ living room earlier had been the same boy who’d repeatedly stolen my heart.

It made me sad to realize it didn’t matter because Wren had been right: Jackson wasn’t that same boy and probably never would be again, just as I wasn’t the same girl he’d fallen in love with. And Asher...Asher wasn’t apossibilityand never would be.

Because he was just my boss, and I was just his employee.

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