Page 104 of Instigator

With Ceci, there’s no pressure. I proved there’s a variety of other ways I can get her off, and she doesn’t care. She hasn’t asked me to try, leaving the ball in my court. I want to. I want to so fucking bad. But something is holding me back.

I think it’s because I trust her wholeheartedly. We know each other so well, I’ve never had to second-guess myself. She knows the deepest, darkest parts of my soul, and I know hers.

Sex is sex. But intimacy is a whole other ball of wax, and I’m finally in a place where I can start unraveling who I am and what I need—in a partner and in life.

Ryan gives me a long look, then nods. “FIFA sounds good.”

thirty-nine

. . .

Ceci

Heidi glares at me from across the conference table as Hailey gives a report on the spring gala coming up in two weeks. Why Heidi is paying more attention to me than the updates, I’m uncertain, but at least I know why she’s pissed at me this time.

Aidan.

Hailey is engaged to a player, so there’s no reason I would have to leave the board aside from Heidi’s petty dislike of me. She hasn’t liked me from day one, and nothing I do will make her change her mind.

I’m not certain if Colt is ready to disclose his and Robby’s… whatever they are. Dating, fooling around, a committed relationship, who knows. Coming out is a big deal. If he’s not ready, I’m hardly about to push him. It all has to happen in his own time.

The meeting wraps up late—as always—and this time, I don’t linger. Aidan headed home for his pregame nap, and I don’t want to interrupt him or, worse, distract him. He needs to get in the zone.

Instead, I head down to my office. Bex is behind her desk, so focused on her screen she doesn’t even look up when I walk in. She’s wearing a silky blouse and a pencil skirt, her ever-present crimson lipstick perfectly applied.

I have to admit, I’m so fucking bored by the helmet project. My part, coding the sensors, is basically done. Sure, I can refine them more and more, but I don’t want to mess up a good thing. Every time I introduce new code, there’s a risk of corrupting what’s already there. Now we have to analyze the data. I have a few scripts to help her, but most of it, Bex has to do herself.

With a tired yawn, I sit at my desk, plug my computer into the dock, and stare unseeingly at my email. I have over eight hundred unread messages in my inbox, and the number keeps ticking higher and higher.

I don’t want to do this.

But sometimes we have to do hard things, even when we don’t want to.

So I scroll to the bottom, all the way to the first unread email. A click of the mouse, and the message opens. It’s from the board of Colt’s company, reminding us of the meeting next week.

Okay. I can do this. I open my calendar and pencil in the date, then archive the message.

See? Easy peasy. Why did I put this off for so fucking long?

Onto the next email. I read through each one, archiving what I can, taking action or replying where needed, and fleshing out my to-do list with tasks that will take longer than a few moments.

At some point in the afternoon, a mug of tea appears by my hand. I only notice because when I go to take a drink, it’s there, and it’s hot.

I tear my attention away from my computer screen. Bex is nowhere to be found, her purse and work bag on her chair like she’s getting ready to leave.

As if I’ve summoned her, she strides into the office. “Get up,” she demands.

“What did I do?” Bewildered, I gape at her.

She giggles, coming to stand in front of my desk. “Get up,” she repeats, a soft smile on her crimson-painted lips. “So I can give you a hug. You’ve been in the zone for the last few hours.”

Oh.

I stand and stretch, every vertebra in my back cracking and popping. My heavy exhale is pure relief.

“Sorry I’ve been so distant lately.”

Bex grins. “You’ve got a lot going on. How’s Aidan?”