Page 104 of Not Safe for Work

And it’s at that moment I realize I’m in love with Rafe Gallagher. Maybe a part of me was from the very start.

He’s watching me so carefully that I see the flecks of yellow and orange in his eyes. I study the tiny scar on his chin and the curl that rests on his forehead. All those pieces of him I’ve fallen in love with, too.

He touches my cheek, fingers caressing my skin, and I fall even more.

“Say something, Tris.” His voice is soft and deep. It reaches straight through to my toes, and I fall again. I kept trying so hard to protect my heart, but Rafe gathered it up, piece by piece, holding them safely in his hands.

Finally, I think I’m ready to let go.

“Rafe, I—”

BZZBZZZZBZZZ.

That sound. That stupid fucking sound. It rips a gaping hole through my chest, reminding me why I was keeping my heart locked safely in a jar.

“Fuck,” Rafe breathes, pulling his phone from his pocket.

My laugh is part disbelief, part hysteria. “Is there even service out here? How does she keep doing that?”

He tosses me an apologetic look as the boat hits a wave, and we’re rocked to the side. The phone slips from his hand and he accidentally answers it.

“Rafe?” Hannah’s voice comes out tinny and hollow. “Rafe? Where are you? All I hear is white noise. Rafe? What’s going on?”

We both stare at the phone lying on the deck in horrified silence until, finally, he lifts his gaze to mine. I can’t tell what I see there. Regret? Remorse? Guilt? Whatever he just said, his (ex?) girlfriend is still calling him multiple times a day, and I deserve better than the third wheel. I can’t do that to myself again.

I gather up the skirt of my dress around my legs and stand. “I’ll let you get that,” I say over the sound of Hannah calling for Rafe in the background.

Rafe reaches for my wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. “No, Tris. Don’t go. I’ll tell her I can’t talk.”

“No, you should talk to her,” I say, fusing a chill into my voice. I yank my hand from his grip and shake my head, turning away so he can’t see my tears as they fall while I slide back into my armor.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The buzz of Rafe’s phone haunts my dreams. Incessant, like the drone of killer bees sent to annihilate me from this plane. No… wait. That’s my phone vibrating on my nightstand. Blinking sleep from my eyes, I lean over to see a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello,” I mumble.

“Is this Trishara Malik?” a crisp voice asks.

“Yes, who is this?” I sit up, pushing my hair out of my face with my blanket tucked under my armpits. Rafe stirs next to me, his eyes peeling open slowly.

“This is Diane Hart’s assistant. She’s reserved a table at the Diamond Lounge for lunch at 12:30 p.m. Dress is business casual. Don’t be late.”

The phone disconnects abruptly, and I’m left staring at the darkened screen.

“Who was that?” Rafe asks.

“Diane’s assistant. She wants to have lunch.”

Rafe sits up. “Why?”

I shake my head. “I’m not sure. During our golf game, she mentioned that she was impressed with my scores on some of the testing. She hinted at putting in a good word for me about the training program.”

Rafe’s smile is tentative. He reaches a hand out but pulls it back. “That’s fantastic. You didn’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t sure if she really meant it, I guess.”

After walking away from Rafe on the boat last night, I kept my distance, and he gave me space. I didn’t want to talk about it, and I still don’t. Lan and Gabrielle could tell something was up, but they didn’t say anything either, and we finished the night in awkward silence.