I looked down at the table. Was he right? Was I so scared because this...this connection we had was exactly what I needed?
“Mia,” he said, drawing my gaze back up to him. “I’m terrified of you. You’re the scariest person I’ve ever met because there shouldn’t be time for you in my life. I shouldn’t have time to take an evening off to have dinner with you—for the second time in a week. I shouldn’t be able to drop work for three days this weekend to take you to Allie’s wedding, but I can, and I am. I would work through the night if it meant I could lie in bed all morning with you. That’s not who I am, but with you, it’s who I become. I figure that’s why, even when you come and tell me we can’t see each other anymore, I can’t for the fucking life of me give up on you.”
“I think you should.” I smiled sadly. “When I told you before that I can’t do personal relationships, I wasn’t lying. I am so bad at them. I even have the nickname of Queen of Dating Disasters at home.”
That cracked a smile from him.
“I don’t have a lot of time, either. What you don’t see is that I can sit down at my laptop to design stuff at eight p.m., the sun setting, and look up five hours later in the middle of the night. I literally lose time, so I know I sure as hell won’t be able to find it anywhere.”
“Yet here you are. With me. Finding it.”
“I didn’t find it.”
“Because it found you.”
I opened my mouth, but he was right. I had stuff I could have been doing for work—not immediately pressing, things I did have time to do, but I was always early. I always had everything done way before it needed to be because I hated knowing I had a to-do list longer than my arm. The only to-do list that was allowed to be that long was a celebrity crush one.
Yet...there I was. I had time, and I was spending it with West. Out of choice—kind of.
I took a deep breath and looked away from him. This had escalated beyond anything I’d imagined when I’d blurted that question out. I hadn’t thought it through at all, had I? Mind you, I could have, and we probably would have ended up having this conversation anyway.
That was how it worked with us. It didn’t seem to matter where we started. We always end up in the same place.
Back to us.
There was still one question, one burning question, I’d asked him several days ago and hadn’t received an answer for. One I needed an answer for.
“What do you want from me, West?”
“I want you to be honest with yourself and stop fighting this. Stop fighting us.”
Another deep breath filled my lungs, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. The frustration I felt at this entire situation balled tightly in my stomach and traveled up through my body until it was a hard lump in my throat and a threatening sting in the backs of my eyes.
I stood up from the table and went inside. I needed a minute to breathe—where he wasn’t there. I needed air he couldn’t take from me, because that happened all too often. Too many times, he’d stolen my breath.
“You know your problem, angel?” He’d followed me. “You’re so concerned about doing what you think is right that you’re ignoring what feels right. You can’t tell me this—we, us—feels wrong.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re right.” I turned and met his gaze, my hands flattening against the top of my stomach. “But that’s the entire problem, isn’t it? It does feel right, and yeah, time is making itself for us right now when we’re in the same city, but when we’re in different ones? Then what, West? Would our time for each other be nothing more than phone sex? Dirty picture messages? I have this much time that you fit in because this isn’t my life. My life is in San Diego, where most of what qualifies as my spare time is spent fending off my mother and hanging out with my friends.” I pressed my hands harder against my stomach and licked my lips to wet them. “Do you not understand that the more time we spend together that isn’t work, the more you matter to me and the more it’s going to hurt when I leave Vegas and go home? We’re almost done. I’ve got a red-eye flight on Friday morning, and then I might not even have to come back.”
He watched me, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes blazed with a mix of emotion I couldn’t tell apart, but he kept it in check as I spilled out all the things I’d been thinking for the past few days.
“You’re afraid of a relationship that will fuck up. Every relationship I have with a man ultimately fucks up. Do you not understand how insane that is when you put those two things together? It’s a recipe for disaster. It’s like asking a hurricane and a tsunami to hit the exact same spot at the exact same time. Chaos, West. We’d be chaos.”