Page 92 of Selfie
With great strain, I wrench myself up to a sitting position. I hold up my thumb. “You took my phone.Red flag.” I straighten my pointer finger. “You texted my ex, pretending to be me?Red flag.”
“After everything I’ve done for you and your sister, this is all I ask: Don’t talk to other men while you’re living in my home. It’s a slap in the face.”
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
“What?” he snaps.
“You’re leveraging your generosity to control who I’m allowed to talk to?” My middle finger joins my other two outstretched digits. “That’s a red flying billboard in the sky, pulled by a fucking blimp. Not okay. I’ll talk to whoever I want.”
Nathan narrows his eyes. “So you’re still in touch with Jesse?”
“Shouldn’t you know? Were you reading through all my text messages while I was sleeping?”
“No. But it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t?—”
“Stop!” I shriek. “I’m not your responsibility. You’re my overly flirty boss who gets pleasure from tossing me around like a beanbag in a cornhole game. Back and forth,back and forth. You’re overbearing.”
Grunting out of exasperation, he throws his hands in the air. “Isn’t that what women want? A protective guy?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling my throbbing headache between my eyes. “Onlyifyour intentions are pure.”
His fist lands on his thigh. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I might be able to forgive your boneheaded move ofinvading my privacy, if it’s coming from a place of jealousy. People do stupid shit when they really like someone. But do you? Do you want me? Or is it just fun to keep me dangling at the end of your pole? You said you’re a catch-and-keep kind of guy, but I don’t feel kept.”
“You don’t feel kept? I adopted you into my home. My company overpays you. I put those diamonds in your ears. I watched multiple episodes ofThe Baby-Sitters Clubwith your sister. You don’t see what’s going on here?”
“Then how come after you spent the night, you pumped the brakes? Is it… Did you see something you didn’t want to see? Are you not attracted to me but wish you were?”
He grabs my feet under the blanket, squeezing gently. “Spencer, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?” I curse myself as the tears escape the corners of my eyes. They are hot tears of fatigue—half from this constant push and pull with my boss, half from the flu that’s equally as tormenting. “Is this all about Elise? You’re not over her?”
He releases my foot. Ducking his head, he peers up at me with a new look. A look of disdain. If I weren’t already sitting, this very look would seat me, sending chills down my spine. And I know I’ve made a mistake in bringing her up.
“Who told you about Elise?”
I shake my head. “You did. You said at House of Blues that night there was an abrupt end to your relationship. Dawn mentioned her name, but didn’t tell me anything else.” I swallow the painful lump in my throat. “Did she hurt you? Because if you’re not ready to talk about it–”
“You’re right,” he says. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I let the thick silence between us fill the room, because I’m scared to ask for clarification. I went too far. I pushed too much. But then again, so did he.
He finally continues, “I think maybe you’re right about everything. I’m leading you on to nowhere. I’m not ready for this. I want to be…but I’m not.”
“What?” Except I know what. The weighted words can only mean one thing.
“Not today. Not this week. But when you’re feeling better, I’ll help you look for nice a place to live. Don’t worry about money. I’ll take care of all of it. But this…you here… I can’t do it.” He shrugs in defeat.
Well, I found his self-destruct button. A giant red button with the word “Elise” in big, white block letters. It was so shiny and inviting, I couldn’t help but press it. If I had the strength, I’d pack my shit this instant. Or, maybe I’d leave it all behind. I should be getting used to fresh starts by now.
“Fine. As soon as I’m not contagious, I’ll call my friends.” I wouldn’t even have to ask. Lennox would put us up in a heartbeat. That’ll buy me some time to figure out my next move. New home. New job.
“I just said there’s no rush.”
“You know what? My mistake.”
Remorse overtakes his face. “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I need to cool down, and we can talk when I’m?—”
