Page 54 of Love to Hate You

I ponder Jordan’s words all night and the next day. And I come to the conclusion that he’s right. Because when I start to contemplate a life without Nash in it, my heart hurts and emotion swells within me.

I’ve given myself completely to Nash. Well, almost. My heart is still scared to jump into the mix but there’s no denying that my body belongs to him. And my mind because I can’t stop thinking about him. He consumes my every thought and fills my every night with so much pleasure it’s intoxicating. Being around Nash Beckett makes me high and a part of me is nervously waiting for the inevitable crash that’s bound to come.

Unfortunately, it comes today in two very different ways.

First, Square Enterprises calls and sets the date for our individual presentations. It’s a strange situation to be in because we’ve become so close. I’m not exactly sure where Nash’s head is, though. He whispers a lot of hot, seductive promises to me throughout the night, but he’s never declared his love. Nor have I because now that I know he’s the man I want, I’m terrified of being rejected.

Even so, I can’t deny that I’m at the tipping point, so close to being all in with him. Yet for as smart as I am, I can’t seem to express those feelings to him. To anyone, really. I’ve never been one of those people who can easily say I love you to anyone– friends, family or lovers. The words get caught in my throat and I end up choking them back down.

The night before the big presentation, after a pep talk from Mark and some of the board members, I’m standing in my office, gazing out over the Manhattan skyline, when Nash moves up beside me.

“Hey,” he whispers in my ear. “You ready?”

We had plans to go out to dinner and wish each other luck for our big day tomorrow, but I haven’t been feeling well. “I think I’m going to skip dinner,” I say. “My stomach has been a mess all day.”

“Probably nerves.”

I don’t think so, but I don’t say anything. I’ve been experiencing nausea for the past week or so, on and off, throughout the day. I threw up twice this morning and the idea of a big meal right now makes me want to hurl again. “I think I have a touch of the flu,” I say.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs and slides his arms around my waist. As he nuzzles my neck, my eyes slide shut.

What am I doing? What are we doing?I’ve been avoiding these questions for weeks while we’ve played, worked, talked, teased, shared secrets, slept together nearly every night and ran this company together as one united front.

Truth be told, it’s been wonderful. I’ve never been happier. But everything is about to change because the partners are going to choose one of us to step up and take complete control. It’s all I’ve ever wanted but suddenly it doesn’t seem like the most important thing anymore. Being President of TB Tech has lost some of its appealing shine. Especially if that means I’m going to lose Nash.

And what if they choose him? How am I going to deal with that kind of rejection? I don’t want to work for a group of people who don’t appreciate me and all of the work I’ve put into this place.

I’m at a loss.

“What’s going to happen tomorrow?” I ask, finally finding the courage to address my biggest fear.

Nash pauses, kissing my neck and turns me around in his arms. “We’re both going to impress the hell out of Square.”

“Don’t give me the PC answer. What happens after that?”

He sighs. “I suppose one of us will impress them more and then the board will announce the permanent President.”

I’m trying to read him, but he’s not giving me anything. It’s like a shield covers his normally expressive blue eyes and my guard instantly lifts. “And then?” I whisper.

“And then what?” he asks, voice cool.

A muscle flexes in his cheek and my heart sinks. It’s so damn obvious that I want to know what’s going to happen between us so why is he avoiding the question?Oh, God.The nausea hits hard and fast and I spin away from him. I race into the bathroom and puke into the toilet. I’ve barely eaten all day, so I don’t even know what could’ve made me sick. I guess I must have a touch of the flu. But I don’t have any other symptoms and-

My gaze lands on the small cosmetics case on the back of the toilet that holds tampons. The case that I haven’t unzipped in weeks.Oh, fuck.Is there a chance I’m pregnant? Nash and I have had a lot– and I meana lot– of sex. But we’ve used protection every single time.

Suddenly, his words come back to haunt me, and I can’t move as fear creeps into my bones.

“Fuck.”

“What?” I ask.

“It broke.”

“What broke?”

He meets my gaze, blue eyes no longer full of heat. “The condom,” he says.

“Holy hell,” I whisper and puke again.

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