Page 77 of The Exit Strategy

I can’t do this much longer. This in-between, the unwritten rules, the lingering touches that only hold meaning for me.

My one option is to solve Cole’s financial crisis and then get the fuck out of The Haven for good.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I open my spreadsheets.

At three o’clock,Cole arrives with my coffee and a folder. “Wilford’s completion sign-offs. These go back farther than what’s in the green binder.”

It feels like a peace offering.

My fingers twitch to reach for it, but at the last second, I clasp my hands in my lap. I’m done taking risks. “You can leave it on the corner there.” I indicate the space with my head. “I’ll get to it in just a moment.”

His hand pauses in midair, the folder hovering above my desk, almost as if he’s waiting for me to look at him.

He’ll be waiting a long time though, and he seems to know that but does nothing to move things along.

“Did you need anything else?” I ask.

“No.” I can tell by his voice that his jaw is clenched tightly.

But that’s fine. It’s fine. We’re fine.

We’re two professionals who can occupy the same airspace and communicate in monosyllables and spreadsheets and not talk about the fact that he had his forehead pressed to mine and his hands fisted in my hair in a way that made my core clench.

Completely.

Fine.

Eventually he drops the folder with a sigh right next to the bottle of water Nana Mae has been dropping off daily—something about sodium and swelling—but it still takes him three minutes to leave my space.

My relief is short-lived though because the next thing I know, he’s wheeling his desk chair out of his office, through the hall, and pushing it directly across from me.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“Trying to undo my fuckups one step at a time.” He drops into his chair dramatically, then opens his own laptop that was tucked under his arm and focuses on his screen. “Close your mouth, Junie. I may be an idiot, but I’m an idiot who’s committed to trying.”

Committed.

To.

Trying.

Trying what?

Why is he doing this to me now?

He’s too close. Too…everything. So I do the one thing I know will push him away. I aim for his sore spots.

“I’m running out of time here, Cole. We know Devin stole from you. We know it’s more than what you originally let on. If you don’t do something about it, I’ll be forced to.”

He clenches his jaw. “That’s why you’re here.”

It’s the truth, but after everything else, it hurts to narrow down our relationship in these terms.

“So why are you still dragging your feet?”

“I know what you’re doing.”

Good. At least one of us does.