Page 134 of Instigator

“Do you want to start a new project? What about that thing you were working on the other night?”

“It’s got potential,” I admit. “And Colt’s been asking me to take on a bigger role on his board.”

“Baby, whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.”

“I don’t know if this is ADHD boredom or if I should simply push through and get through the hard stuff.”

“Does it matter?”

I stare back at him. “Doesn’t it? If this is just a symptom⁠—”

“It’s a manifestation of your ADHD, yes,” he says. “But if you know you’re bored, and you’re dreading working on this project, and Heidi is still driving you nuts⁠—”

“She is,” I allow.

“It’s okay to move on. You gave it your all, the sensors are up and running, and there’s nothing to say you can’t consult if they need help. The foundation can find some other coding person. If it’s built so only you can fix it, it will never succeed. It needs to be able to stand without you, or it’s doomed to fail.”

“This is true…”

“What do you want to work on?”

“I’ve been working on a better statistical model for predicting whether a draft pick pans out, and for analyzing if a prospect is worth investing in. I don’t know that it will make money, though.”

“Does it have to?” he asks.

“Well…”

“Does it have to result in a multimillion-dollar company if you enjoy working on it? Can’t it just be fun?”

I pause.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that. None of the projects I’ve worked on since I sold my company have made money. But if I take out the need to be financially solvent…”

“Not trying to tell you what to do with your money,” he says. “If you’re having fun, if you’re enjoying working on it, do you really need to be profitable? You don’t have to build it into another empire.”

I roll his words around in my head. I hadn’t considered doing this for shits and giggles. For so long, everything has had a very strict purpose, and if it didn’t earn out—well, I could take the financial hit, but it did take a toll on me emotionally. The goal has always been to be get back what I’m putting in, at the very least. The years of failures after failures have half-convinced me I’m not capable of building anything worthwhile anymore. That I was a one-trick pony.

Taking away that pressure means I can work on things that may not be financially viable but are still fun and exciting. And if I abandon it in six weeks or six months…

“I just don’t know what to do,” I admit. “I know I want to leave the helmet program. Where I go next is all foggy.”

Aidan gazes at me with affection. “Fly to wherever you need to fly. I’ll be your safe space to land.”

My eyes well with tears. “I wish you were here.” I could really use one of his hugs right about now.

“I wish I were too. Four more nights.”

Settling back in the bed, I draw his blanket tighter around my shoulders, breathing in the scent of his soap lingering on the fleece. “Do you want to play?”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes pinging over my face through the webcam. “Do you need a distraction?”

“It’ll be like old times.” Right now, I think I need that.

“Whatever you want, Annie. You know I’m here for whatever you need.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Even when what I need is to hit back-to-back home runs off you?”

His mouth curves. “You mean where you swing at every pitch in the dirt?”