Page 53 of Love Under the Microscope
Years of litigation and negative press bad.
I try to slow my breathing. I must control whatever’s causing this so I can get those original pages back from Nigel.
A jagged pain slices through my chest, and I can barely fill my lungs with air. I bend over in my chair and place my head between my knees. I think this is more for fainting, but it can’t hurt, right?
Finally, my breathing is less haggard.
Okay, no worst-case scenario thinking.
I straighten and touch my head. At least the pencil has kept my hair in place.
Nate strolls into my office with a bounce to his step and an easy smile on his face. “Max and Bradley told me you’ve been looking into the archives. Something up?”
I’ve tried to hide everything about Nigel and Jack from Nate. That’s my job, right? Only Jack’s right. I can’t continue to keep this secret from Nate. After all, the chances of it imploding keep growing by the day. Protecting Nate doesn’t mean leaving him blindsided. I swallow. “Yes.”
As lines crease his forehead, he comes closer. “You’ve been so quiet today. I figured something was wrong.”
He has no idea how wrong. All I can do is nod.
Nate sits on the edge of my desk, not opposite me, but on my side. He touches my shoulder. “Is this work-related or…personal?” His voice cracks on that last word, and he glances at the calendar on my wall. “It’s around the time you usually have your yearly mammogram. Did they find something?” His voice lowers, and fear appears in his eyes.
Oh my God. He thinks I have cancer.
“I’m not sick.” The words shoot from my mouth faster than oxygen diffuses during respiration.
“Pregnant?”
I appreciate his concern for my health, but it’s hard not to snort at his question. “Not unless it’s time for the second coming. It’s been a while since I’ve…” My voice trails off in embarrassment over my lack of sex. Well, not counting personal love time. This shouldn’t be funny. The situation is far too serious.
The asshole grins and winks. He fucking winks at my celibate state! “I can help you remedy that. We used to have a lot of fun together. You know I can make you orgasm without a toy.”
“Yes.” At least he used to be able to do that, for which I was grateful. “But we both agreed it was time to leave that in the past.”
“That was your idea, never mine.”
“Still, it was and continues to be a good idea.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“More than platonically, Zel.” He speaks with a hint of desperation in his voice. Nothing new.
I’m not an unfeeling bitch—quite the opposite—but give an inch, and Nate will take a parsec. A few years ago, I realized Nate only wanted me back because he was lonely and too busy to find someone for himself. Oh, he dated and slept around—a lot. But something serious? Forget about it. I was—am—the easy option there, so to justify his continued pursuit of me, he persuaded himself that he fell back in love with me after the divorce.
Let’s be real. If he truly loved me, he would have never let me go. “We’re much better friends than lovers.”
“You keep saying that, but…” He glances at the ceiling as if the words he’s searching for are written there. “We’re both still single. Doesn’t that suggest we belong together?”
It’s the same argument we’ve had more times than I can remember, and I’m not doing it again. I raise my chin. “I’m sort of seeing someone.”
Kissing and making out with someone counts as “sort of” in my mind. Even if it’s clear to me that Jack isn’t ready for a serious relationship. His not-so-little friend who kept making an appearance in his pants tells me he might be up for sex.
Nate stiffens, but a muscle throbs at his jawline. “Serious?”
I shake my head, not wanting to make whatever Jack and I have as more than it is. “It’s new.”
His shoulders relax slightly. “Someone I know?”
