Page 116 of Down Shift (Driven 8)
So much for boundaries.
“I’m fine,” she finally says. “Just tired. Figuring a few things out.”
A thought ghosts through my mind. I shove it away.
It’s just not possible.
Not feasible.
Could never work.
“Get your ass out here, Donavan! We need to drink!” I rise from my seat and hold my hand up in a one minute gesture to where the guys stand at the door of the suite. Some of them flip me off, some raise up a bottle of beer to entice me, and some make the universal motion that I’m jacking off.
I raise my middle finger and turn my back to them.
“I take it the natives are getting restless.” She laughs. It sounds forced. Or am I just reading into it? I can hear the bowl clatter in the sink. Know she’s about to head toward the shower. “I’ll let you go. It’s kind of quiet here without the constant pounding of the hammer, so thanks for calling. I mis—and congratulations again on such an exciting race.”
“Getty, wait.”
Why can’t it be possible?
“Yeah?” Is that hope in her voice? Want? I wish I could see her eyes, her face, the fidgeting of her hands, to know for sure what she’s thinking.
I can’t pin down the whirlwind of thoughts going through my head, but use the gist of them to stick myself out there and do something that never in a million years would I expect to be doing.
“What if I was wrong?”
“Wrong about what?” Her voice slows down, while my heart speeds up.
“What if I made a mistake when I made that toast?”
Silence again. Her mind trying to follow me. “You mean the to us part?”
When I pull the curtains aside and look down on a city darkened by the night, I know that I’d love for her to be going out with us tonight. Or just with me. It doesn’t matter. I want her to be here to experience this. Meet my parents. My crew. To see what I do. To have her come give me a kiss on victory lane so everyone could see this incredible woman is with me.
And only me.
Holy shit. The world must be ending.
Because I’ve never wanted that before.
“No.” I struggle with what to say next. How to say it. “Yes.” She laughs in a way that makes me smile and relax a bit. “I mean about the ending-in-disaster part. What if I was wrong about that?” You’re not making sense, Donavan. Stop. Think clearly. Try again. “What if I were to tell you that I really like the benefits part but not the friendship part?”
“Zander?” She’s cautious. Fearful. Feeling me out here, since I’m fucking this up royally. “Can you just say what you’re trying to say?” That laugh again. It’s nerves mixed with hope. Exactly how I feel.
Am I really doing this?
How can I not?
“I’m saying that I miss you, Socks. More than I thought I would. Like I’d rather sit on the phone and talk about nothing right now with you instead of go drink with the guys.” The admission comes out in a rush, but the simple “Oh” that falls from her mouth keeps me going. “So what if there wasn’t going to be a disaster? What if we tried the friends thing and the disaster we expected never happened? Would you want to try more than that?” I pace the length of the room. Run a hand through my hair. Sigh as she once again gives me the patience I need to find the right words. And at the same time her silence is fucking killing me. “I mean, I’m here and you’re there, and what if I said I wanted you here with me too? What if we figured a way to make this work somehow?”
She inhales a ragged breath and I cringe. The silence, her lack of response—absolute torture.
Dammit. What the fuck did I go and say that for? Why the hell did I just ruin whatever this was between us by creating a man-made disaster myself?
“Getty?” It’s as close as I get to begging. I’m more nervous in this conversation than I was at the start of the race today.
A woman is not supposed to fuck me up this bad.
