Page 113 of Madden

“I think we should talk first, don’t you?”

I pull back. “Sorry,” I say dejectedly, giving her space.

“No,” she scolds me, gripping the front of my shirt. “You can’t expect me to come running into your arms and pretend like the past few weeks never happened.”

She’s right, but dammit if I don’t wish I could hold her for a minute and forget everything for a while.

“C’mon,” she nods, and I glance over my shoulder to Abel, holding up my hand to let him know I’ll call him. I don’t care about the logistics, all I want is to be with her, to figure this out together.

When it’s just the two of us in the elevator, I reach for her hand again.

“I just need to feel you right now.”

She stares down at our linked fingers and sighs. “Yeah, me too.”

The bell dings when we make it to her floor. I press my hand against her spine, following her into her place. She drops her purse and laptop bag on the island, avoiding eye contact, as if she’s nervous to have me here with her again.

It’s hard not to be in this room and think about the memories we shared here not long ago. For the first time since seeing her again, I’m able to make out the sadness in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you worked for Hollywood Tea?”

“It’s not what you think, Madden,” she admits. “You’re right though, I still should’ve told you. I guess, at first, I didn’t think it mattered. My junior year, I was taking a journalism class and we had a list of places available for internships. All my top picks were snatched up by seniors, so by the time they got to me, there wasn’t much to choose from. I ended up with Hollywood Tea.”

I run my hand over my jaw, listening intently.

“It was for three months, and my job was to weed through hot tips that came in. Was it my first choice for internships? No, but I learned a lot about myself during the time I was there and met some nice people. When it came time for my senior year, I knew I wanted to do something more like what I do now at Limelight, and I thought this was it.”

“I think for so long, I’ve been focused on finding a successful career, one that would pull me away from the path my parents laid out and prove to them I could stand on my own two feet without them. I hadn’t really stopped to consider if what I was doing made me happy. At least, not until now.”

I take a step closer to her, pushing her back to the edge of the counter, and she exhales a shuddered breath.

“Until now?” I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What would make you happy now?”

She raises her chin to meet my gaze. “I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

I find myself exhaling a sigh of relief, linking our hands together, lifting her fingers to my mouth.

“You make me question everything I thought I wanted in life,” she admits.

“Why do you say that?”

“I quit my job.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

She nods. “I love working at Limelight. It’s fun, they’ve given me more creative control, and I’m good at it.” She stops, contemplating her next words. “I love my job,” she repeats, “but I love you more.”

And there it is.

Those three words I thought I’d never hear her say again.

I cup her face and grip her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine.

“I love you too,” I whisper.