Page 37 of Hard to Pretend

It was three days later, and I’d finally heard back from Jasper. He’d sent me a few open positions that he thought Seb might fit based on what I’d told him. It hadn’t been a lot, but it had apparently been enough for Jasper to think of at least three positions that might work for him—including one the company hadn’t even posted yet. He’d also sent over a list of what kinds of things he knew their hiring department looked for in resumes. It was essentially a how to guide on how to get hired at Enterprise. He told me to putSeb in contact with him, so that he could pass over the resume personally.

I thought he’d be just as excited as I was when I told him.

Instead, he was angry. His brow was furrowed, and he was glaring at me like I’d done something wrong. Maybe he misunderstood what I did, thought that I’d done something beyond just asking a few questions. “I emailed my friend, Jasper, over at Enterprise. I told him a little about you and your work at Magnolia, and he sent over a few positions that you might fit.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because you said you’re miserable at your job,” I reminded him. “Because that’s what you do when you care about someone.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” he snapped. “I told you I’d do research. I’d look into everything. I’d make my decision based on whatIfound.”

I could feel my hackles raising. I didn’t like the way he was snapping at me. I’d never liked fighting with the people in my life, and I hated it more when it was my partner. “And you can still do that,” I pointed out. “It’s not like I—”

“Stop,” he demanded. “Just stop. I didn’t want you to go behind my back and email your friend. If I wanted your help, I would have asked you for it.”

I sighed. “Why are you so pissed about this?”

That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? He was pissed off that I’d helped him, and I didn’t understandwhy he was so mad. I didn’t understand what the big deal was. We were together. We were a couple. If I had my way, we were building a future together. That meant depending on each other, helping one another. It meant doing things to make his life better.

Why was he so pissed off about the fact that I wanted to help him?

“Because I need to do this myself,” he answered stubbornly.

It was infuriating. There wasn’t shame in getting help. There was nothing wrong with letting the people in your life support you. I didn’t think I’d have made it as far in my life as I had if I didn’t have a little help here and there. Hell, I wouldn’t even have the relationship I had with him now if I hadn’t asked him to help me in the coffee shop. I never would’ve gotten back in contact with him, because it had been too long since we’d hooked up. So many things in my life would be different if I didn’t ask for help.

Why couldn’t he see that it wasn’t a bad thing?

“Why?” I asked. I wanted to understand. Maybe if I understood his decision, it’d be easier to stand by it in the future.

“I don’t want to be like all of the people at my job who get a leg up because of who they know, not they’ve done to earn it.” It was a solid reason, but it wasn’t a good reason.

“You don’t know Jasper,” I pointed out. That was a big hole in his logic. “I’d get it if you and Jasper were close personal friends.”

Hell, I’d get it if me and Jasper were close personal friends. I’d known him for a few years, and I would consider him a friend, but we weren’t really close. I talked to him about once a month or so, and I couldn’t tell you much about his personal life outside of his career and the fact that he sometimes traveled for work. Most of our conversation were about the places he’d visited.

Seb’s features relaxed for a moment, and I thought that maybe I had gotten through to him. Maybe he understood my point and saw that I hadn’t really messed up.

Then his eyes darkened again. “You still went behind my back. I didn’t ask for help.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to help,” I told him softly.

His shoulders relaxed. Maybe that had been the right call. I might not understand why he was mad, but I was sorry that I was the reason for his anger. “I know that.”

“But if this is going to work out between us long term, then we have to be able to help each other.” It seemed like a simple fact. I wanted this to work out between us long term, and if he felt the same way, then we needed to learn to lean on one another. I wanted him to depend on me, to trust me. “You have to be able to accept my help sometimes.”

He nodded. “I’m not used to doing that,” he admitted. “Maybe sometimes from the guys, but I’m usually the one helping, not the one who needs help.”

I understood that more than I’d like. I was the one who helped my friends, but they helped me in return. I didn’t have any problem asking them for help, because I knew that they’d show up for me.

“If it makes you feel better, you’ll probably help me at some point in our relationship,” I teased. “Sometimes even when I don’t think I want or need help.”

He smiled and nodded slowly. A beat passed between us, and then he took my hand. “I’m sorry for overreacting.” His voice was quiet, but I heard the words clearly. More importantly, I could hear the sincerity in them.

I squeezed his hand and gave him a quick kiss. “And I’m sorry for going behind your back.”

Because even if I didn’t really think what I’d done was a big deal, I knew that it was to him. That was the most important thing. I didn’t want to be the source of his pain. I didn’t want him to worry that every time he didn’t specifically ask me to do something for him, I’d do it anyway.

We’d have to work on that communication thing, but what relationship didn’t have a learning curve?

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