In the several weeks since they hooked up, Liza had been doing things like bringing him coffee and healthy snacks and giving him a lot of friendly hugs. But this past week her behavior had shifted again, and to his severe annoyance, she’d started treating him like a piece of antique porcelain.
Her constant look of concern. Her perpetually knitted brow. Her all-too gentle hand on his when he stopped by her desk to ask for a schedule or brief her on the new artists on his radar and how the established artists felt about certain new marketing efforts. Not that the behavior itself bothered him. It was more that it was clear something had happened, and something was wrong.
On some level, Connor knewwe need to talkwas coming at some point. And it just so happened to come when he was trapped in a car with her for a minimum of thirty minutes.
She probably timed it this way on purpose.
Shit.
“Connor, how do you feel about me?”
Double shit.
His eyes widened and then shifted toward the passenger side window, andoh man. “Um…”
“I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but I feel like enough has happened between us, and we’re comfortable enough with each other to be honest and sort of…clear the air.”
Connor chewed his thumbnail. There was no way he could be completely honest about this. “I think you’re great.”
“Would you consider me your friend?”
Well that was easy enough. “Yeah, of course.”
“Would you also consider me more thanjustyour friend?”
Wellfuck. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” She rested her elbow against the door and brought her fingertips to her lips. “We’re on our way to Scott and Ophelia’s house for dinner. They’re your friends. They love you, and you love them. Right?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”
“And Brennan. You guys love each other.”
“No, I actually hate that fucker,” he said dryly.
Liza slid her eyes toward him andtsked. “And you have those kinds of close relationships because of time and shared history.”
He glanced at her and then back at the taillights in front of them. “Yeah.”
“Do we not also have time and shared history?”
“We do.”
“And I am now under the impression that you never actually hated me, you just had reasons why you had to end our relationship. It wasn’t because I’d made you mad or done anything wrong, right?”
Connor’s stomach suddenly felt heavy at the memory of it. “It wasn’t anything you did, no.”
“And you understand that I honestly forgive you for what you did to me, and for everything…” She pulled her lips between her teeth and blinked. “Just…” Her voice had an unmistakable break in it. “That is…just all of it.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t understand why.”
Liza glanced at him and then turned her face back to the road. “Forgiveness is a decision. It doesn’t just happen automatically. You have to do it on purpose. And normally, you don’t feel better about what the other person did until you choose to forgive them. I chose to forgive you, and now I feel better about what happened. Honestly, I forgave you more to help me to feel better than to make you feel better. Although, I do hope you feel better, too.”
Connor tugged at his jeans and shifted in the seat. “Maybe a little.”
Translation: maybe not at all, but I sure do like that you don’t hate me.
“So, keeping all of that in mind, would you consider me more than just your friend?”
