My eyes felt wet. Not wet enough to cry but wet enough to sting. Yes, I wanted to stop reacting to him. Yes. He knew. He fucking knew even if I couldn’t say it clearly. But the thing he didn’t realize was that if he stopped then my reactions would stop.
Because he was the one who brought this out in me. No one else.
I finished my wine and set the empty glass on the table.
“We don’t have to agree on this.” My throat felt dry despite having just drunk.
“No, we don’t,” he said bitterly as he picked up his fork. “I just have to leave you alone.”
We finished the meal in silence. As each terrible, awkward second passed, I reminded myself that this was what I’d wanted. He wouldn’t bother me after this. He seemed to hate me now, for some reason I couldn’t quite figure out. Honestly, I wasn’t trying very hard. I was too busy hating myself.
Was transference just an excuse? A prettier label than the real one underneath?
But if I hadn’t been into sick dirty things because Donovan had saved me, then it meant I’d really liked it. All of it. Including the part where he’d been cruel and horrible. Including the parts where he was still cruel and horrible.
I was still in my head by the time we climbed into the elevator together. The tension was wrapped densely around us, and it seemed to thicken in the small confined space. It was solid. Like a wall between us.
We’d only traveled down a couple of floors when the car suddenly jolted to a stop. I glanced toward Donovan—his hand was on the emergency stop button.
My heart began hammering in my chest.
In an instant, he had me caged against the wall.
“Sabrina…” He searched my face, looking for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give.
“I’m not frightened of you.” I pressed tighter against the wall, but my stomach felt like butterflies had taken over, and shit, he was right. I did feel alive.
“No. That was never your problem. The problem was that you liked that you are.” He pushed in closer, so close that I could feel him against the length of me even though he wasn’t touching me anywhere. “I still remember every crease on your face when you came.”
I looked away, though his nose was inches from mine. “That was ten years ago.” But it was as vivid as yesterday in my mind, too.
“The sounds that you made. The way you said my name.” There was an ache in his voice, and it pulled my eyes to his.
I could remember the way he smelled. The way the bookcase scratched against my back. The way it felt when he pushed inside me—like I was being torn apart and split open, the way it felt like I was only being held together because of him.
And if that were all I remembered then I would beg for him to kiss me, because there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than his hands on me, everywhere on me. Making me feel all those things he’d made me feel back then. All the things he still made me feel when I dared to let him.
But there was more, and I hadn’t forgotten it.
“I remember how you dismissed me like a used toy. Sent me to your friend.”
Donovan’s eyes closed briefly, and he exhaled.
“To Weston.” He stepped away, releasing me from my trap. “That’s right. That was wise of me.”
He backed up until he was on the opposite side of the elevator. “Weston would be good for you. You’d be good for him. After his whole marriage is over, that is.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “So I should pursue Weston.” Really? He was pushing this again?
“Why not? That’s what you came here thinking you’d do, wasn’t it? I think it would be an excellent choice for both of you.”
I was almost too stunned for words. Thirty seconds ago he’d been ready to tear off my clothes, and now he was advocating a relationship with his business partner and friend.
Whatever his game was, it hadn’t changed since college. But mine had. Back then I’d let this hurt me. Now, I’d play along. “Fine. I’ll do that.”
He seemed slightly taken aback. “You will?”
“Sure. As soon as his marriage is over. Thanks for the suggestion.”
“Glad I could help.” He released the emergency button and the elevator started again.
The Jag was waiting on the street, but my worries about sharing a ride turned out to be unnecessary. After holding it open for me so I could get in the back seat, Donovan shut the door and knocked on the hood of the car.
The driver pulled out into traffic, and when I swiveled to look behind us, Donovan was already gone from sight.
Chapter 15
I pulled my hair nervously as Nate Sinclair studied the bulletin boards in the strategy room. Pinned to them were ideas and inspiration for a campaign we were getting ready to introduce for Phoenix Technology—a multinational tech company that was one of the foremost designers and developers of computer software and hardware. My staff had gathered the pertinent materials into a PowerPoint presentation for the meeting the following day, but the brainstorming boards were still up in case we needed to make any last minute changes. It was much easier to work on a team project in a tactile format, I’d found, so I’d kept this style when I’d joined the firm.
Still, it felt awkward having a superior looking at my work like this. Like it was naked and raw. Like I was naked and raw. I was grateful the main lights were off and only the spotlights were on. Maybe the darkness could hide my edginess.
“We’ll adjust any of this to fit what Creative comes up with,” I said, in case Nate thought the strategy was lacking. Not that he’d said anything to suggest that he did.
He moved from a magazine article to a graph about the best uses of social media. “I’m not worried about it. This is Weston’s department.”
Right. Nate didn’t care. He was only in here killing time while his own department came up with an ad campaign. They’d come up with several ad ideas, and he’d shot down every one so far.
Weston, on the other hand, had left for the night. He wasn’t the type to stay late in general, I’d learned. Especially recently, when he had so much to do to prepare for his upcoming wedding, which was now only six weeks away.
My anxiety was all about me and no one else. I’d been at Reach for a month, and due to the fast pace that the company kept, I’d already seen several of my team’s marketing plans put into place. But Phoenix was the first big campaign presentation I’d been a part of. It was important to the entire firm, and nerves were high-strung throughout the staff. I’d just left a handful of my own employees in another work room, quibbling over which color of background looked better in the PowerPoint slides like it was a matter of life or death.
I let out a sigh, relaxing my shoulders as I did. “Are you confident your team will come up with something?”
Nate stroked his hand across his closely shaved beard. “A year ago we wouldn’t have even had a shot at Phoenix. An opportunity like this doesn’t come every day, and I’m going to make sure we make the most of it. That’s the best we can do.” He turned toward me. “But if we don’t get it, we don’t get it. It’s not because I don’t have a good team. Advertising is catching the right wave at the right time. Sometimes you crest high, sometimes you wipe out.”