Page 27 of The Hang Up
“Joshua isn’t the forever type.” But even saying those words felt wrong. He’d been married for many years. He didn’t give up on anything. And I suspected he loved with everything he had. “Why are you interrogating me?”
“I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I laughed and squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry about that.”
“You’re not going to get hurt?”
“I’m absolutely going to get hurt,” I said with a wry smile. “I’m just used to it.”
* * *
I understood Nevaeh’s concerns.I shared them. But none of that seemed to matter when I was with Joshua. Of course it couldn’t last. But this would be my only chance. I had no chill. Or self-preservation. And that would be a problem for later. For now, I would keep it as casual as I could.
What did you wear to a date with a man twenty-three years older than you? And a billion or two richer? I should have asked him where we were going, but honestly, I would have stressed no matter what. I tried to dress nice but not too nice. I wasn’t sure the nice jeans and short-sleeve cream-colored button-up would work, but it would have to do. I refused to be late.
Sean stopped me on my way out the door. “Where are you going? I thought you were off today.” Damn.
I turned around and narrowed my eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Rude.”
“You know what I mean. You’re always with Ben.” I held up my hands to ward off whatever he was going to say. “I’m fine with it. Just surprised.”
“We can take a night off from each other,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Try again.”
He sighed. “He’s helping Mrs. Williams sort through her Christmas decorations.”
“December is months away.”
“Right?” Sean said with a hopeful grin. “I thought it would give us a chance to play video games. Hang out. We haven’t done that in ages.”
“I’ve been here.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve been working.”
“I mean, on my days off, I’ve been here.” I resisted the urge to pull up my phone and check the time. I didn’t want to be late. Joshua had wanted to pick me up. But we both knew that was a very bad idea.
“Back to my original question. Where are you going?”
“Out with friends.”
“Which friends?”
“What are you, my dad?” I cringed as I said it. Way to be obvious. He stood and walked over to me, and for a second, a split second, I thought about bolting. But that would probably make it worse. I didn’t back down. His eyes widened, and that made me more nervous than his questions. “Oh my God. You’re seeing someone. Don’t shake your head at me. You’ve been texting someone for months.”
“It hasn’t been months.”
“Ha.” He walked around me like a detective trying to solve a murder.
“Sean—”
“Shh. I’m working here.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“It’s a guy—”
