Page 223 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions
“What? It wouldn’t be the kinkiest thing we’ve done.”
“Alex!” George smacked me, and I grinned.
Dad knew anyway. There was no need to hold back. Besides…I was holding back enough, as it was, my true feelings squeezing like serpents around my heart.
The trees blurred by, sunlight dappling through the branches as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the narrow, winding road that would lead us back to civilization.
It felt weird.
All of this did.
The wedding was over. June was married. Roderick was officially my brother now. Everything I’d worked so hard for had simply…ended. Even weirder, was the fact that my heart hurt.
This giant, uncomfortable cramp in my chest.
I caught myself rubbing it a few times—and George flashed me another concerned look, but didn’t comment.
Dad put headphones in, which was genuinely kind of him. He zoned out, gazing through the window and allowing us what little privacy we could have, considering the inside of the cab was a shared space.
George was…unaffected.
His usually expressive face was oddly blank as he watched the trees whippingby. I didn’t know what to say to break the silence. I didn’t know if I should. If I should pretend like this was normal. Like the idea of sending him away wasn’t breaking my heart.
Like I wasn’t totally, completely, irrevocably in love with him.
Even though it’d been a week.
A fucking week.
And we’d both sworn we weren’t looking for something serious.
We’d agreed this was for practice. That this week was all we’d have. All we wanted.
“Tell me about Monday,” George’s words were faint—faint enough I barely heard them.
“What?” I blinked, surprised. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, the crunch of the tires filling the silence.
“It’s Monday,” George tried again, even more stilted. “How do you…how do you start the day?”
Oh god.
My stomach tied itself in knots. Clearing my throat, I realized what he was doing. Distracting himself. Just like I’d asked him to do for me, a few short days ago. My watch had never felt heavier on my wrist—the weight of all that we’d shared in such a short time hanging over me.
“I’m up by six.” I hardly recognized my own voice, it was so hoarse. “I go for a run to get some cardio in before I meet my trainer at the gym by seven thirty.” Sick, heavy—my heartbeat was sluggish. “Grab a protein shake, then head to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“Dublin. This gaudy high-rise with my dad. We manage financial shit. Boring, but pulls in the big bucks.” That was simplifying what I did to an almost insulting degree, but I figured George already knew what I was talking about. “He’s acting CEO but I’ll be taking over for him in the next five years. We’re in the home stretch as he prepares for retirement.”
George nodded along, processing this. “Okay. You’re at work,” he urged me. “What next?”
“I handle the big-ticket clients personally. Get updates from my personal assistant.” I continued, still feeling off-kilter. “I’ll go to lunch with one of my hockey buddies, or more frequently, June and Roddy. Usually some hole-in-the-wall place—where I end up ordering a disgustingly massive amount of chicken and rice—and nothing else.”
“Because of your strict diet,” George replied, proving he’d been listening when I’d told him about it.
“Yep.” June never stopped teasing me about how anal I was when it came to my fitness. But…I simply wasn’t comfortable enough with myself to let go. At least, not the way I had this past week. It felt like I’d been living a mirrored life.
Myself, but…different.
