Page 126 of Worth the Risk

I could fight. For him. For us. For more. But unless he wants to fight, too, it’s useless.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe I’m so caught up in the moment I’ve lost sight of everything else.

Maybe he’s right and I’m wrong.

And that’s what hurts the most.

“Hold up. What’s going on here?” Rissa asks and props her hands on her hips as her eyes narrow on the half-filled cardboard box on my desk.

“Just packing up.”

“You’re really leaving, just like that?”

The tone of her voice has nothing on the stabbing pains I feel everywhere in my body and my tear ducts that have run dry.

“Not just like that.” I fake indifference. “The contest has one week left. I’m going to head back and facilitate some final PR stuff from the main office. I’ll have more help there, people with better connections, etcetera.”

“The same kind of people you can pick up a phone from here and ask for the same kind of thing? Those kind of people, right?”

I don’t answer her, and I don’t try to pretend that I don’t hear the anger in her voice. She deserves to be mad at me. I’m bailing on her because I can’t handle being in this town another day knowing Grayson is somewhere close. Knowing that he’s pushing me away and I don’t know how else to fight.

“Yeah. That kind of people.”

“I love you, honey, but I call bullshit. Are you really going to tuck that pretty little tail of yours between your legs and run away without a fight?”

“I did fight, Rissa. I tried. You can’t make someone love you in return.”

I love you, Sidney. I can hear his voice. I can feel his lips. I can feel his love.

And yet . . . he won’t ask me to stay.

“He loves you, all right. He’s just scared,” she says, and I whip my eyes up to look at her. “Anyone who has ever been within a ten-foot radius of the two of you has seen it. Why do you think rumors still fly even though you two go through painful steps to look like you’re not seeing each other? Hell, just the way he walks by here and then stands in front of that window, waiting for you to look his way for a whole five seconds’ worth of eye-fucking tells me all I need to know.”

“Well.” I cough out the word, a little surprised by her vernacular. I’m also vaguely saddened that it’s obvious to everyone else how Grayson feels about me but he can’t see it himself.

Correction. He can see it. He just doesn’t want to believe it.

“So, that’s it? The girl who came here with the determination to do whatever it took to fulfill herself professionally and win the Haute job is just going to lie down without a fight and not fulfill herself personally?”

I look out the window she was just referring to and blink away tears. It’s been two days since I’ve seen Grayson. The bittersweet last kiss still burns on my lips. The feel of his arms around me still makes me want more. Yet, he made it very clear that I wasn’t fulfilling any personal wants with him.

“He thinks I only want to stay here because I’m here. That once the idea settles, then I’ll want out, and if I want out—”

“Then he’ll be the one in the crosshairs to get hurt again.” She shrugs. “This town does have a way of being all-consuming. Everyone is everywhere, and so you kind of eat, breathe, and live it.”

I’m not ready to hear her say that. I’m not ready to hear anyone tell me that Grayson might be right.

“I think I just need a bit of space, Riss. I need some clarity. I’m wondering if being here made my world that much smaller and, in turn, my feelings for him that much stronger. Did I put up with being on the down low because I wanted to be, or because I’m so removed from my real life that I compromised what I deserve?”

Even as I say it, I know it’s just another excuse to soothe my bruised heart.

She chews her lip as she stares at me. “How about: this whole contest thing screwed with perspective and made you have to be incognito together, and maybe you should stick around till after it to see what happens between you then?”

“Perhaps.”

“But you aren’t going to stay, are you?”