Page 113 of Drop Shot
Confusion has a wrinkle appearing between his brows. I want to smooth it away, but I keep my hands to myself. I can’t be trusted when it comes to touching this man.
“Okay, so what is it? Is this truly just a job to you or?—”
The words burst from my mouth before I can stop them and cut him off mid-sentence. “I’ve always had a crush on you.” He looks at me in stunned silence, so the words keep falling out of my mouth in pitiful word vomit. “I was never going to act on it. You’re likewayout of my league, and I’m aware of that. Besides, you were my boss, and Ilovedbeing your assistant. Even when you made me do stupid shit.” He laughs at that, so at least he’s listening. “And then I got roped into this whole faking it thing, and you’re an annoyingly perfect fake boyfriend, and I like you even more the more time we spend together, and you do sweet things, like buy me a stuffed brachiosaurus because you know they’re my favorite, and you never complain no matter how many times I make you watch theJurassic Parkmovies, and you call me Clever Girl sometimes, and every time you do, my stomach does this weird flip-floppy thing. And frankly”—I finally pause long enough to take a breath— “it would be all too easy for me to fall in love with you, and honestly, I’m afraid I might already be there, but we have a contract relationship, and what if we try this for real, and quickly realize it’s not going to work out? Then we’re fucked and we both end up murdered by Jackson.” His lips part and he blinks at me. I can see him trying to form thoughts, but no words are coming out of his mouth. All the energy leaves my body and I go limp. Of course he’s not saying anything. Why would he? I just went psycho on his ass. “It’s okay,” I mutter, and pull out of his hold. “Forget I said anything, please.”
I swim away toward the stairs and quickly climb out. I yank my clothes right over my wet bikini and wring my hair out.
“What’s wrong?” Sabrina asks me, hands on the chair ready to push herself up to rising but I shake my head.
“I started my period,” I lie. “I’ve got to go.”
I practically sprint out of the pool area, flip-flops clapping loudly as I do.
Stupid.
I’m so fucking stupid.
I hurriedly push the button for the elevator and take it up to our floor. My plan is to quickly grab some of my clothes and ask Ebba if I can crash in her room. Even though she’s not here right now, I know she already checked into her room before going on her trip. I can just tell her we had a fight, and I need some space. I know she’ll let me, no questions asked.
I reach the door to the suite and pull the keycard from my pocket. I’m so glad I thought to slide my own into my pocket earlier.
The door shuts behind me and I run around the room like a mad woman, shoving clothes into one of my smaller overnight bags. I’m not an idiot—I know I can’t avoid Elias forever—but I just need a night away to get over my embarrassment and then I’ll be fine.
I hurry into the bathroom to grab my necessities like shampoo and conditioner, my toothbrush and toothpaste. Shit, I need my skincare too. And my makeup.
This is taking longer than I thought.
A blood curdling scream rips out of me when the hotel room door opens and hits the opposite wall.
An out of breath Elias stands in the doorway to the bathroom, chest heaving like he ran all the way here from the pool.
My bag drops from my hands, things rolling out the bag.
Crap, crap, triple crap.
I don’t have a chance to scoop it up because Elias crosses the few feet between us in one giant stride.
I swallow.
I’m not scared of him, I know he’d never hurt me, but there’s an intensity about him I’ve never seen before.
“You left and didn’t give me a chance to respond.” His eyes are darker than usual—a storm blackening the sky.
“It’s okay, really. I know you said before that you wanted to try this for real, but I know you couldn’t have possibly meant that, and don’t feel bad. I don’t need you to let me down, I get it. You’ve never dated seriously before, so why would I be any different?”
He grabs my face and silences me with a kiss.
Pressing his forehead to mine, he says, “Goddamn, woman, if you’d let me get one fucking word in, I’d tell you that I want you so fucking bad. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. It wasn’t some fluke when I said I wanted you for real. I meant it then and I mean it now. Don’t make me beg again. Get it through that pretty blond head of yours that it’syouI want. No one else.”
I wait for self-doubt to rear its ugly head—to tell me again that this man could have anyone else and there’s no possible way he’s talking about me, but this time that voice doesn’t come.
“We both want this.” He strokes my cheek. “Don’t we?”
I inhale a shaky breath and give him that word he wanted to hear so badly in France, but I wasn’t ready to hand over. “Yes.”
CHAPTER 38
ELIAS
