Page 92 of Boss Me
“It means I’ll take care of you. Always. Go to my house. Take a swim in the pool. Or a nice, long soak in the tub. Norma will make you something to eat. Coco, too. And when I’ve finished damage control here, I’ll come home, and we’ll talk.”
“Damage control?” He winced at how high and loud my voice had gone. “I’m damage control to you? No, thanks. You take care of the fucking recording. I told you, I can take care of myself.” I squared up my chin and glared at him.
His hands curled into fists. “I know you can, but that’s what I do for people I love.”
“People who love me are willing to admit it in public.”
Cooper’s face went red, but his voice was controlled. “You have to give me another chance.”
“No. I don’t.” I brushed past him and opened the door. I picked up my box and, head high, strode toward the elevators.
I paused when I got to Marlee’s desk. She and Jackson were in his office, their voices low murmurs. I reached into my box and pulled out the carton of granola bars. She’d know what to do with them when Cooper got too busy and forgot to eat.
I turned and flung open the door to the stairs. I wasn’t waiting for the elevator today. I was done with Synergy. Done with Cooper Fallon.
I knew the drill. I’d go home, cry, and eat my feelings. Just like always. The only complication this time was that now I was jobless, too.
32
COOPER
Sherbet-colored rays streamed into my office window, making my heart ache for the many sunsets Ben and I had watched from the bungalow’s deck. But I couldn’t go after him. Not yet. First, I had to figure out what the hell I was going to do about my company because if I let Gurusoft take over and lay off all his friends, Ben would never forgive me. He’d gotten in a fucking airplane—twice—to prevent it. I couldn’t let him down on that, too.
I bit my lip and stared at the rosy-pink clouds. On the island, Ben had worn a golf shirt in that color. It was the first time I saw his bare arms. Would I ever see them again? Maybe not, after I’d done exactly what I’d been afraid I’d do. I’d hurt him.
A rap startled me, and my best friend poked his head into my office. “You ready to talk about”—he waved his hand—“everything?”
I flashed him a grim, closed-mouthed smile that hid the emptiness inside. “I’m not sure about everything. But we do need to talk.”
That furrow he always got in his forehead when his feelings were hurt appeared. He shut the door. “We’re best friends. We used to talk about everything.”
I circled my desk and sat, not on the loveseat where I’d been when Ben froze me out, but across the coffee table in the corner of the chaise. I ran a hand over my face. “Jay, I’ve never told you everything.” I’d never been open, not even with my best friend.
Not until Ben. And I hadn’t been honest enough with him.
He flopped down on the end of the chaise. “You never told me you were gay.”
I sighed out a breath. “I’m bisexual. Always have been.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The furrow deepened.
“Because I—it was complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
Fuck, I’d just been outed in front of the CEO, my homophobic father, and half the sixth floor. Why hold this back from him?
“Because I was in love with you. And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t want to endanger our friendship.” The confession, so long in coming, didn’t make me feel any lighter. I braced for his reaction.
The furrow disappeared. He opened his mouth and took a breath. Then he closed it.
Say something. Now that it was too late, I wanted him to see me. See what I’d gone through.
Finally, he spoke. “In love with me? But you were always yelling at me.”
I sank further into the corner. “My therapist thinks I displaced my inappropriate affection with anger. And that I thought I was in love with you because you were safe. You’d never return my feelings, so I would never have to make myself vulnerable. Classic sublimation.”
He scrunched his brow. “You’ve thought about this a lot. You’ve talked about it with your therapist. And yet you never said a word to me. You could’ve given me a fucking chance.”
