Page 42 of When the Walls Come Down
“I hate to cut this short, but what if we just call it a night, get some sleep, and see what we can do about it tomorrow? I’m exhausted, and I know I’m not very good company.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She leaned into it, and God, I didn’t want to pull away.
But with the mood I was in, being with her like that wasn’t going to do me any favors.
“Okay,” she replied, about as downtrodden as I was.
Not having the right thing to say was the worst part. I stood back, and again, we just stared at each other.
“Good night,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morn—at work, I guess?” I scratched the back of my neck. Uncomfortable and frustrated. Not with her, but by the situation.
“Good night,” she answered and then took a few steps away to use her new key.
I hung back to make sure it worked without any problem, and when it slid in and turned like it should, she gave me one last glance and a weak smile. For the first time, when I locked eyes with her, the blue didn’t shine as bright. The sparkle in them I’d been drawn to wasn’t gone, but it was dim.
When she was inside, I entered my apartment, and suddenly, a few walls felt like being miles away from her.
Only twenty-four hours ago, I had been thinking I was the luckiest man around to have found her in this big city and then to have her right next door. It was too good to be true. Now, everything was upside down.
I marched straight to the shower, threw the water on as hot as it would go, and stripped down. Under the powerful pressure of the steaming water, I stood there, just waiting for a solution to magically appear.
Okay, Shane. What do you know? What are the facts?
Maggie was young and brilliant and practically overqualified for the position. She’d moved all the way here for a job that had been promised to her, and—setting my ego aside—I had no doubt she’d be an asset to Bay Brewing. Regardless of her age, had I been interviewing her for a spot on my team, with the credentials she had, I probably would have hired her on the spot too.
But that didn’t change one big thing: I didn’t want to leave. I cared about the work I’d done. Cared about my staff and the headway we’d made together for the brewery. That had to count for something, right? I knew Casey and Blake’s intentions were in the right place and how I tended to lock myself down and shut everything but work out, but that didn’t mean the only solution was for me to go.
Even the thought of starting over made the piping-hot water streaming over my tense muscles run cold.
Then there was this other thing—for lack of a better term—that was happening between me and my next-door neighbor. It had waylaid me so fast, so suddenly, that I didn’t want to give up on it. But anyone with any common sense would simply tell her that it had just been one great weekend, that she should chalk it up and move on.
Without me.
Jobs aside, Maggie could get sick of me at any moment. Especially after the way I’d behaved at Two Ships. I wasn’t proud of it, and I’d never been comfortable arguing—not for real. And that was one of the parts of this new thing with her that I was enjoying.
The debating.
The hassling each other.
The teasing.
The ease of it all.
But this evening hadn’t felt like that. It’d felt like war, which was the complete opposite of what I really wanted.
I lathered up and washed my hair, forgoing a shave, and then I rinsed off.
Standing in the steamy bathroom, I had to ask myself a major question.
What do I want?
The answer was simple. I wanted it all. The job. The challenges of moving my team in a direction where the company would be unstoppable. I listed things off as I brushed my teeth, but by the time I was spitting toothpaste into the basin, I couldn’t ignore what I wanted most.
I wanted Maggie. Wanted her to be happy. Secure in a job she loved. Mostly, I wanted her to want me.
My fear was, just like all those years ago when I’d been with my ex-wife, Kari, that I wouldn’t be enough. I can’t say that I’d done all the right things back then, but maybe if I had, the situation would have gone a different way.
It didn’t matter. I was much better off without her. We wouldn’t have made it anyway.
I wasn’t that overweight, depressed guy anymore.
I threw on a pair of jogging pants and strolled into the kitchen for a beer, but that didn’t sound good. I needed a clear head. Ambling around, I tossed different ideas around about how we could all get everything we wanted.
