There’s a storm of emotion swimming in his dark eyes and his lips are pinched in a straight line as he takes a seat in front of me. This isn’t going to be good.

“Good morning, Cash.”

“Hey. Thanks for letting me stop by on such short notice.”

“It’s no trouble. What’s up?”

His knee is bouncing up and down incessantly. “I want to talk about what happened Saturday.”

“Yeah, me too. I was disappointed to find you gone when I woke up yesterday.”

“It was a mistake, Stone. It shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t be happening again.”

Ouch… like a knife straight to the chest.

No. Don’t fucking say that. “Why?”

“Why?” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, letting out a heavy sigh before continuing. “Maybe because you’re my boss. Maybe because we were both drunk and clearly not making good choices. Or maybe because I don’t fucking like you and the ship between us sailed a long fucking time ago… like, say, five years ago, when you fucking vanished!”

He jumps to his feet so aggressively, the chair falls back, and he begins pacing back and forth in front of my desk with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. I can practically see the steam pouring from his ears in thick clouds.

I need to tell him. He needs to know it wasn’t like he thought. My lips part with every intention of spilling everything… but I can’t. I can’t find the words, can’t get them out. Instead, I sit forward and say, “Cash, it doesn’t have to be like this. Can we just talk about it?”

Stopping his pacing, he turns to face me, hands planted on the desk. “You’re damn right it doesn’t have to be like this, but you decided that for the both of us five years ago, Stone. You don’t get to make those calls now. Too little, too fucking late. We will not be hooking up. We will not be friends. You’re my fucking boss, and that is it. I want nothing more from you.”

Before I can get another word in, he spins on his heels and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him. The frames on either side of the door shake from the force, and anger bubbles in my gut, putrid and blazing.

Anger at myself for hurting him in the first fucking place, but also anger at myself for thinking he would ever be open to anything with me ever again. Why the fuck would he want to be my friend? Or more?

Fuck.

******

It’s pouring down rain.

Fat, warm pelts of water shred into me as I ride to Molly’s, heavy winds whipping around me. I should’ve driven my damn car to work, but it was nothing but sun in the forecast.