Page 84 of His Surrender

Not because she is flirting. I know the difference. She laughs because she is kind. Because she’s never learned how to make another person feel small just because they were interested in her.

Sydney says something that makes both men laugh now. It all looks harmless.

So, why does it feel like I can’t draw a full breath?

I pick up my whiskey and finish it in one swallow. The burn barely registers.

All I can picture is one of those men walking Aubrey home. Standing where I stood outside our elevator. Making her laugh the way she laughed with me before I was stupid enough to convince myself distance was somehow noble.

The realization settles over me with suffocating clarity.

I’m no longer afraid of my feelings. I’m afraid someone else will have the courage to act on theirs first.

Aubrey reaches for her purse.

She leans toward Sydney, saying something I can’t hear before sliding out of the booth and disappearing down the hallway toward the restrooms.

Without thinking, I stand.

Sawyer looks up immediately. “Oh, don’t.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“No.” His voice is serious. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re about to make a decision before you’ve actually thought about it.”

“I just …”

The words die because I honestly have no explanation for why my feet are already moving.

Sawyer doesn’t try to stop me. He simply watches me leave.

The hallway outside the restrooms is almost startlingly quiet after the noise of the bar.

The music fades somewhere behind the walls, replaced by the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant clink of glasses from the main room.

Aubrey is standing alone near the wall, absent-mindedly scrolling through her phone while she waits.

She looks up when she hears my footsteps.

The surprise on her face is immediate.

“Dean?” The concern in her voice only makes everything harder. “What happened?”

I stop a few feet away. Now that I’m standing in front of her, I have absolutely no idea what to say.

For several long seconds, neither of us says a word. I can hear my own heartbeat. Can feel it hammering against my ribs with enough force that it almost hurts.

Finally, I let out a slow breath. “I can’t keep pretending.”

Her brows draw together. “Pretending what?”

“That watching you with someone else doesn’t make me feel like I’m losing my mind.”

The words echo in the quiet hallway. They are completely raw and honest.