How could Alex do this? I liked him. I trusted him.

Is he why I got fired?

He holds up his hands. “I was going to say something. I wanted to ask you to dinner or something sometime,” the words come out in a rush, “but then Mark told me you guys were seeing each other.”

I blink. Wait. The timeline isn’t gelling in my mind. For one, Mark himself told me we aren’t a thing even though we’ve been sleeping together for the past month, and for two, we weren’t sleeping together when I was transferred from Alex’s service. In fact, around that time was when Mark started hitting me up with the heavy flirting.

Wait a minute. Did Mark only take an interest because of Alex? Holy shit. Mark started hitting on me after Alex asked him about me, like I’m a shiny toy and he’s a toddler, only interested when someone else wants to play with me. Which is just douchey enough to make sense.

Alex keeps talking when I don’t respond. “And now, I feel like an even bigger fool because you just told me you and Mark aren’t a thing. Weren’t ever a thing. Either he was lying, which fits with his bigger picture, or . . . ?”

I rub my head. Is he serious? “He, we weren’t ever serious. We may have—” My eyes fall shut. This is mortifying. “We may have had some physical moments. But it started a couple months ago and ended . . . well, today. And it was never, he never really liked me, like that.”

His jaw tightens. “Mark’s an ass. I’m sorry. I really hope that my asking for the transfer didn’t have anything to do with you getting fired today. I was very clear to Drew you were an excellent employee. But I can call them and make sure, if you want. Not that you need me to fight your battles, but I feel really terrible that I might have had something to do with it.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I—” I blow out a breath. “I’m not sure.”

You don’t fit, doesn’t exactly mean Alex likes you and therefore you’re fired.

I mull over everything I know about this day, the number of times I’ve been fired, the different questions I’ve asked, ideas I’ve tried at work, and I come to an inescapable conclusion. As much as I would love to deflect and blame someone else, I got fired not because of Alex, but because of me.

“No. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. You’re not the idiot. I’m the idiot.”

“So.” He tips his head down, nudging the tip of my shoe with his. “What would you think about being idiots together?”