Page 27 of The Player's Club

“What?” I gaped at him. “Why?”

“Because you don’t want to move to San Francisco.” He squeezed my hand. “And our relationship is more important than anything else. I realized after you left the last time that I was letting my ambition get in the way. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry if you felt pressured.”

I slowly took my hand back. I struggled to find the words to respond. Shouldn’t I be excited? Relieved? But I mostly felt . . . annoyed.

“You can’t give up this job opportunity,” I said. “You’ve worked your ass off.”

Todd raised his eyebrows. “There’ll be other positions, and don’t worry about my apartment. I signed a month-to-month lease because I felt I wouldn’t be staying there long.”

Now, I just felt horribly guilty. “You said it yourself. The company is moving away from LA. There won’t be many positions based here, and you had your heart set on this job.”

“But it doesn’t matter. You matter, Elodie. That’s what I want you to understand.”

I still felt perturbed—at Todd? At myself? At the world? I didn’t know. I shoveled some chips and salsa into my mouth because I didn’t know what to say.

“I just don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’d feel terrible for making you give up this job.”

“But not enough to move to San Francisco,” said Todd quietly.

“God, why did shit get so complicated?”

When the server brought out our dishes, I was relieved by the reprieve from this discussion. Fortunately, Todd seemed to sense that I didn’t want to talk about this anymore because he changed the discussion to lighter topics.

He told me about his trip to a local Chinese place in San Francisco that served the hottest noodles in the city. Todd and a few of his coworkers ate the noodles, initially enjoying them despite the mouthwatering spice, only to go home and regret that decision all night.

“I think I broke the toilet.” Todd laughed. “Babe, it was the most painful experience in my entire life. I felt like I was giving birth.”

My lips twitched. “Todd, I’m trying to eat here!”

“Sorry, sorry. But the noodles were so good that I kept eating the leftovers, but I had to eat it on the toilet because, well—”

We finished our dinner in a good mood. Todd came over to my place, and before I’d even shut the front door, he took my face in his hands and kissed me.

The kiss was deep and slow, and I felt a burgeoning heat in my belly. I kissed him back. I wanted to see if what I’d felt was real.

But as Todd maneuvered me farther into my house, I suddenly felt stifled. I had the urge to push him away from me even though I’d been so turned on all the time lately.

Maybe it was the way his tongue kept snaking in and out of my mouth. Or the fact that he tasted like onions from his burrito. Any eroticism I might’ve felt was extinguished when he grabbed one of my breasts and squeezed a little too hard.

I broke the kiss. “Todd,” I said, breathing heavily.

“What?”

He started to unzip my jeans, but I batted his hands away. He gave me a confused look like a lost puppy, which only irritated me.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said.

He stilled, then stepped back. His expression shuttered. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything.” I sat down on the edge of my bed, sighing deeply. “This isn’t working anymore.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

I gritted my teeth. “Our relationship. I think we need to go our separate ways.”

Todd just stared at me, but I didn’t back down. I felt strangely relieved, saying the words aloud finally.

“I told you I wasn’t going to take the job,” he said finally.