The last words he said surfaced through my addled mind, playing over, looping until it was clear.
“You should stay away from me, Lila. I’m no good for you. Run while you can. Run away from me and don’t look back. I’m not worth your life.”
All I could think of was: why? Why wasn’t he “worth my life?” If he wasn’t a good or even decent person, would he have placed me in my bed before he left? Would he have even come, so aggravated, thinking he’d hurt me? I was tucked under the covers of my bed, cleaned of our actions, with a glass of water on the bedside table; all evidence to the contrary.
Another question was: why me? Each member of the Boob-Squad was throwing themselves at him daily. We weren’t friends, nor did we pretend to be. It was a constant butting of heads, sarcastic remarks, biting words and eye rolls, filling our everyday encounters.
With no answers, I forced myself from the bed and threw on some clothes before I plopped in front of the TV, intent on losing myself in whatever movie was on. I was too tired and aching to even contemplate anymore cleaning. In the back of my mind I wondered if Nathan was upstairs doing the same thing. He was so close, yet so very far away.
Sunday had long since passed, and now it was nine in the morning on a Wednesday. I hadn’t seen Nathan at all outside of work, much to my body’s regret. Our usual bickering never faltered, but his mood improved over the weekend like most thought it would. I was the only one privy to the real reason why.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him looking at me, staring at me like he was searching for the answer to a question. He never looked when anyone else would see, just when we were alone; tucked away in our space with a view.
Our office had once been one of the conference rooms for Holloway and Holloway, back when they only took up one floor of the building. When the firm expanded and the load became more than one transactional attorney could handle, Mr. Holloway split it into two, but kept it together. Hence the occupation of such a large room by comparison.
Vivian was hired to work with Trevor to lighten the burden, making it more manageable. When Trevor’s wife was relocated, I applied in hopes to be relieved of the grunt work of a newbie. Mr. Holloway hired me straight out of college after I’d interned between my second and third year of law school.
I had no desire for the court room, I never had, but I loved the law. When I looked at Nathan, I saw a courtroom personality. He was much smarter than I was. I envisioned him prosecuting criminals or suing large corporations. Not stuck in a room, meeting with clients a few times a week, and looking over legal jargon until his eyes bled. The job wasn’t him. I assumed it was part of his mystery, but I’d never asked, and he wasn’t forthcoming with information about himself.
“Delilah?”
I was pulled from whatever contract my eyes had blurred over while I was thinking about him. The man was too distracting for his own good.
“Yes.” I sighed and eyed my empty coffee mug. I could use a fresh one.
“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at the same contract for the last fifteen minutes, your hands hovering over the keys.” His lips pulled up into that damn smirk of his, the one that made panties wet on almost every woman he encountered, mine included. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, and I wondered if he knew I was thinking about him.
“I just need more coffee.”
His smirk grew. “Your mind seemed preoccupied, not tired.”
Damn him.