Page 86 of No Match Found
Gosh, I missedjust minutes ago.
“Sudden for you,” Grant said. “I happen to have thought about what we just did a hundred times before tonight. And then a hundred more times since I picked you up earlier.” His eyes dipped to my lips as if to saya hundred-and-one.
My lips tingled with anticipation, so I rubbed them together. I couldn’t kiss Grant again tonight. Maybe ever.
My heart and body wrestled that terrible thought.
“Just promise me something,” Grant said.
“What?” My body and soul were ready to promise him the moon, which made prematurely agreeing to anything highly dangerous.
“That when you figure out what you want, you’ll be totally honest with me. I can handlethe truth.”
I thought of the truth as Chase had delivered it to me: in an electronic package I could—and did—open anytime I wanted. “How? How are you so unafraid of the truth? The truth hurts, Grant. Everyone knows that.” I didn’t just know it. I’dlivedit.
“It can. But at least you know what you’re confronting. I’d rather that than waste time and energy fighting for a mirage.” He held my gaze intently. “Will you be honest with me?”
My stomach swam, but I nodded. Being honest with Grant meant being honest with myself about how I felt for him. That was just as scary.
“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “I won’t rush you. I’ll give you space to figure things out.But…”
“But what?”
He took a step toward me. “I’m not about to give you enough space that you’ll forget about me or what I want. Okay?”
I gave a shaky laugh. “That sounds like a threat.” A threat I desperately wanted him to follow through on.
His lips quirked at the edge. “I guess it is. I can be patient, but I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you.” He watched me for a few seconds, then came in and kissed me on the cheek. He hovered even after his lips had left. “If it’s the fallout for Matchify you’re worried about, I would never let you face that alone.”
I swallowed the rock in my throat, more touched than I wanted to be.
He stepped back, and I missed him.
He grabbed the damp rag and headed for the door, and my heart twinged. I didn’t want him to leave. But I needed him to.
I stayed where I was instead of following. It was safer here. There were way fewer Grant mouths to kiss and bodies to hold onto.
He opened the door, tossed a little smile at me over his shoulder, and said, “See you tomorrow, Vivian.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I’d givenpresentations to the ultra-rich and explained complicated data and statistics to men whose true expertise was sinking a putt on the most luxurious courses in the world, but I’d never gone into work more nervous than I did the next day.
Some deep part of me was sure I’d arrive at the office and find Grant cold and aloof—or victorious because he’d done what he’d set out to do on our date—what he’d set out to do from the get-go: prove Matchify was a fraud.
Last night in the kitchen hadn’t felt like it was all part of a ploy, but at this point, I’d lost confidence in my ability to judge other people’s true feelings. I could barely understand my own.
I pressed the elevator button in the parking lot and took the opportunity to try to achieve a calmer presence while I waited. If Brooke were here, she would’ve told me to do some box breathing. Given the way my hands were trembling and my heart was stamping a permanent, indelible tattoo of anxiety on my chest, I would’ve been happy to try hexagon or parallelogram breathing if it would help.
I counted to four while I inhaled, repeated the slow counting as I held the breath, then gradually released it.
“Good morning.”
The breathing box busted open as Grant came up next to me, and I forgot how to refill it.
“Good morning.” My voice sounded weird and squeaky, but Grant didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on the elevator as a third person joined us waiting. It was a woman I recognized from the law office a few floors below Matchify.
I smiled politely at her.
