Page 21 of Ms. Lead

“I’ll tell Mr. Belly that you wanted to come to see him, okay? I’m sure that will cheer him up.” I force a smile I don’t really feel, and she sniffles and nods at me.

“Okay.”

I know the fine line you need to walk with Ava when she gets overemotional like this. I pry her off my leg and transfer her hand back to her mother’s. I think we’ve avoided a complete meltdown so far. We just need to make it to the car.

* * *

On my way home, I consider the last few days' events. All of the days I’ve known Oliver and every interaction we’ve had. I look at every positive indication that he’s given me that he feels something for me. I know I’m not crazy. I have seen it with my own eyes. But I’ve also seen him cover those feelings up and try to hide them. He’s not very good at that.

He’s been hot and cold and everything in between, with nothing consistent. I don’t know what to believe anymore. He says one thing, but I feel another. And I don’t just feel it. It’s as if it’s etched in writing on my bones. It goes that deep.

But sending me away from the hospital without being able to see him? Even for him, that’s cold-hearted. He could at least have let me see him and sent me away himself, not have Normandy do it. And then, on top of everything, I still need to pick him up tomorrow morning. So, I’m back to being just his driver. I can live with that. Right? Can’t I? No. I don’t think I can.

I will not be able to go an entire month this way. If he doesn’t or can’t admit his feelings, I’ll need to step aside from being his driver. It’s absolute insanity to even be thinking about these things after only knowing him for a few days.

I blame Enzo. He got all of this started in my mind, and I’m now making it into something it’s not. If he hadn’t planted the seed about the universe wanting Oliver and me together, maybe I wouldn’t be here now. Perhaps I’d be able to take Oliver at his word when he says no, he doesn’t feel anything for me.

I need to develop a way to be around Oliver without going through this every time. Somehow, I have to shut off my feelings for him. I’ve never had to do that before, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to. How does somebody do that? How do I stop my heart from aching for him? My mind from worrying about him? My body from yearning for his touch? Where do I even start?

I start by stopping. Stop thinking about him constantly. Stop worrying about him. Stop imagining and hoping for something that will never happen. Just fucking stop. You’d think that would be easy with the short time I’ve known Oliver, but you’d be wrong. This is the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do.

Chapter Thirteen

OLIVER

HOW DID YOU LOVE

Overnight I’m moved to another room and continue to be pumped full of steroids, and by morning I feel almost human again. I’m given a prescription for more to take when I leave hospital, and then I’m released back into the wilds of Las Vegas.

I’m notified that my ride is here, and I make my way out to the waiting room, steeling myself to see Bianca for the first time since this happened. I don’t know what kind of reception I’ll get from her after denying her visit yesterday. I presume it will be a chilly meeting.

The numbness in my leg is subsiding little by little, and all dizziness is gone, so I can walk normally for the most part. When I reach the waiting room, I notice Bianca before she sees me, and I stop to watch her for a minute. She’s scrolling through her phone, but she looks anxious. A knee is bouncing, and she’s biting her bottom lip. Her near-black hair is down for the first time I’ve seen, and she seems to be trying to hide behind it as it curtains her face. She’s breathtaking, especially when she doesn’t know she’s being watched.

As I take her in, I can feel that supernatural pull toward her again that I’ve had since the first time I saw her at the airport. It’s like I’m tethered to her, and whenever I’m in her presence, it yanks at me to get closer. And when we’re not together, it reminds me that we’re still connected, so she’s never far from my thoughts. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I’m still unsure how I feel about it.

To be honest, it scares the shit out of me, but at the same time, it also feels like the most natural thing in the world.

She finally looks around and discovers me watching her. Our eyes meet for only a second, and it’s not long enough for me to gauge her mood. She stands quickly, and I see that she’s actually wearing what looks like a uniform. A typical chauffeur’s outfit, but sans the hat and gloves. Black dress trousers, a white blouse, and a short black jacket.

While it’s sexy as hell on her, it isn’t what I expected at all. It makes me think she’s trying to send some sort of message. Hell, if I know what it is, but I can guess.

“Are you ready to go?” she asks, looking everywhere but directly at me. Her eyes initially caught on my forehead and cheekbone wounds but quickly shifted away. “Do you have everything?”

“Yes. We can go.” I fall in next to her as she moves to leave. “Thank you for coming to get me. I do appreciate it.”

A shoulder rises dismissively. “Just doing my job.”

There it is. The truth I knew would surface eventually. I guess I just wasn’t expecting to have to face it right off the bat. Of course, I should have known that Bianca says what she means and means what she says. The problem between us is that I don’t. No, I shut down, shut off, and push away.

The difference now is that Bianca shows me what that does to someone. With everyone else I've pushed away, I wasn’t forced to spend any time with them afterward, so I got away with it reasonably unharmed. Not this time. This time I’m going down in flames as I witness the carnage I create.

Bianca walks ahead of me, and I can’t tell if she’s sped up her pace to purposely not walk with me or I’m just that slow, and she has no patience. Either way, she turns to me when we get to the exit doors.

“Wait here, and I’ll pull the car around for you.”

“Bianca. I can walk to the car.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me. Probably trying to tell if I’m fit enough for the exertion needed to cover the distance to the car. I try my best to seem unphased by the visual test, but inside I can almost taste my vulnerability, and it’s bitter on my tongue.

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