mumble a barely coherent greeting before looking at Jesse. He appears happy, his eyes bright with excitement and I wonder just what it was that I interrupted.
"Goodnight, Jesse. It was really good seeing you again."
I walk away before he has time to reply, meaning what I said. Regardless of what has happened tonight, I’m glad that I had the chance to see him. I needed closure.
Is that what I got?
My eyes prickle with pained tears as I cross the foyer to the elevator and I bite my lip in order to stop it from trembling. I so wanted it to be different, not another goodbye. This outcome would have been easier to accept if it hadn't started off so well. I can still feel the warmth from his touch and I know it’ll be a long time before it has gone cold.
As the elevator doors open, I hear quick footsteps on the marble floor behind.
"Michaela, wait!" Jesse cries.
Shit. He can't see me upset. I rush into the elevator and punch the button repeatedly until the doors begin to close, but his swift hand blocks their way.
"Wait, I said!"
He enters and stands in front of me. I look down forcing back the tears that are about to fall from my eyes. Lifting up my chin with his finger he frowns when I reluctantly make eye contact.
"You're upset? Mickey, what's wrong?"
He reaches out for my hand but I pull it away and press the button for my floor before folding my arms across my chest. He continues to stare at me expectantly, and so I force my lips to formulate a response.
"You, and her," I mutter, my embarrassment rising along with the elevator. "It’s fine, I guess I had some stupid notion that we were hitting it off again, but no. You and her make much more sense than you and I ever did. It’s fine. Really.” I sniff, trying desperately to hide my upset. I can't believe we’re having this conversation. Jesse hasn’t belonged to me in years, so how can I justify feeling so territorial. He doesn’t owe me anything, let alone his loyalty.
"Are you serious? Mickey, Kristen is married. I do business with her husband." His gaze hardens and he shakes his head. "I already told you, the only reason I’m here is for you. I know I haven’t given you much reason to believe me, but please, try."
My eyes meet his again and I study them, looking for any evidence of untruth, but finding nothing. His face hardens and his stare is concentrated as his words sink in and I’m forced to believe him. I feel so stupid for making a fool out of myself, but more importantly for revealing my feelings for him. It must be obvious from my tortured face the depth to which my feelings go. The last thing I want is to show my hand so soon.
“Please don’t cry. I can’t handle it,” he whispers. Lifting his hands to cradle my face he wipes away the strands of hair that sweep above my eyes, and then the tear that has fallen from under them.
His sudden proximity is overwhelming and I have to consciously remind myself to breathe. With gentle coercion, I’m guided into the corner of the elevator and my breathing quickens in anticipation. My face is locked in his sizeable hands while his leans temptingly close. My eyes flicker closed, no longer able to face up to this man and what he does to me. Jesse’s intentions are clear and if I want no part of it then now is the time to interrupt. I want this so much, but it’s not what I need. The words are in my mouth, but as his hand travels suggestively down to the small of my back, I’m rendered mute.
Instead of telling him, I show him. It takes every ounce of willpower to deny him, but I do. Pushing gently at his rock hard chest, I turn my head away from his until he gets the message. He eases up immediately and looks at me dejectedly.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. I shake my head in response, still unable to find my voice. “No, really. I didn’t intend on making a pass at you. It’s just, you look so fucking hot tonight, and you’re upset and I just wanted to make it better.”
With his head
"Goodnight, Jesse. It was really good seeing you again."
I walk away before he has time to reply, meaning what I said. Regardless of what has happened tonight, I’m glad that I had the chance to see him. I needed closure.
Is that what I got?
My eyes prickle with pained tears as I cross the foyer to the elevator and I bite my lip in order to stop it from trembling. I so wanted it to be different, not another goodbye. This outcome would have been easier to accept if it hadn't started off so well. I can still feel the warmth from his touch and I know it’ll be a long time before it has gone cold.
As the elevator doors open, I hear quick footsteps on the marble floor behind.
"Michaela, wait!" Jesse cries.
Shit. He can't see me upset. I rush into the elevator and punch the button repeatedly until the doors begin to close, but his swift hand blocks their way.
"Wait, I said!"
He enters and stands in front of me. I look down forcing back the tears that are about to fall from my eyes. Lifting up my chin with his finger he frowns when I reluctantly make eye contact.
"You're upset? Mickey, what's wrong?"
He reaches out for my hand but I pull it away and press the button for my floor before folding my arms across my chest. He continues to stare at me expectantly, and so I force my lips to formulate a response.
"You, and her," I mutter, my embarrassment rising along with the elevator. "It’s fine, I guess I had some stupid notion that we were hitting it off again, but no. You and her make much more sense than you and I ever did. It’s fine. Really.” I sniff, trying desperately to hide my upset. I can't believe we’re having this conversation. Jesse hasn’t belonged to me in years, so how can I justify feeling so territorial. He doesn’t owe me anything, let alone his loyalty.
"Are you serious? Mickey, Kristen is married. I do business with her husband." His gaze hardens and he shakes his head. "I already told you, the only reason I’m here is for you. I know I haven’t given you much reason to believe me, but please, try."
My eyes meet his again and I study them, looking for any evidence of untruth, but finding nothing. His face hardens and his stare is concentrated as his words sink in and I’m forced to believe him. I feel so stupid for making a fool out of myself, but more importantly for revealing my feelings for him. It must be obvious from my tortured face the depth to which my feelings go. The last thing I want is to show my hand so soon.
“Please don’t cry. I can’t handle it,” he whispers. Lifting his hands to cradle my face he wipes away the strands of hair that sweep above my eyes, and then the tear that has fallen from under them.
His sudden proximity is overwhelming and I have to consciously remind myself to breathe. With gentle coercion, I’m guided into the corner of the elevator and my breathing quickens in anticipation. My face is locked in his sizeable hands while his leans temptingly close. My eyes flicker closed, no longer able to face up to this man and what he does to me. Jesse’s intentions are clear and if I want no part of it then now is the time to interrupt. I want this so much, but it’s not what I need. The words are in my mouth, but as his hand travels suggestively down to the small of my back, I’m rendered mute.
Instead of telling him, I show him. It takes every ounce of willpower to deny him, but I do. Pushing gently at his rock hard chest, I turn my head away from his until he gets the message. He eases up immediately and looks at me dejectedly.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. I shake my head in response, still unable to find my voice. “No, really. I didn’t intend on making a pass at you. It’s just, you look so fucking hot tonight, and you’re upset and I just wanted to make it better.”
With his head
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