Made for You Page 37
“I’m Will,” he said, easily matching her pace, watching her face as she walked.
“Congratulations,” she said, not glancing up at him.
Stop being a bitch, her mind ordered.
But it was as though her brain was putting up walls, trying to protect her from this too-gorgeous guy who couldn’t possibly be interested in her. The dry sarcasm was just there. Keeping her safe.
He let out a little laugh. “And you are…”
She didn’t answer. Too afraid that she’d say Dumpy Dalton by accident. Because sometimes preemption was the best defense.
“It’s Brynn, right?”
“Ding ding ding, give the boy a prize.”
His hand lightly touched her elbow, and she had the strangest urge to lean into this boy she didn’t even know.
She swallowed nervously and came to a halt.
“You’re nervous,” he said softly, giving her a sweet little smile.
Well, duh, the hottest guy in school is talking to a nerdy, quiet freshman, so…yeah, I’m nervous.
“Nervous or uninterested?” she heard herself say.
His head snapped back a little, and his eyes were considering, as though to say, so it’s going to be like that, then?
She forced herself to meet his gaze, as she silently answered back. Yeah, it’s going to be like that. Don’t pretend that you’re interested.
He gave a curt nod, his expression somewhere between irritation and disdain.
“See you around, Princess.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
She felt his eyes on her back all the way down the hall, and she wanted to turn around and apologize. Wanted to turn back and ask for a do-over. Wanted to explain that she didn’t know how to act around a boy who was nice to her.
That she was afraid that it wasn’t real.
Finally she worked up the courage to turn back.
But he was already gone.
* * *
It took Will several minutes to figure out what he was looking at.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing a little at his sore back. Apparently, he was past his days of being able to sleep on the floor all night without repercussions. He rubbed one hand over his face groggily as he accepted the mug of coffee that Brynn held out.
He would have been able to tell it from her face, but he didn’t have to. Her clothing and the suitcase by the door said it all.
“You’re already dressed,” he said simply.
She nodded once from where she sat on the hearth. The fire had gone out long ago, leaving nothing but dark, depressing ashes in its place.
The symbolism wasn’t lost on him.
He took a bracing sip of coffee as his eyes swept over her put-together face. She’d applied makeup he hadn’t even known she’d brought with her. This wasn’t the rumpled Brynn on a casual beach vacation.
This was carefully styled career Brynn.
She pressed her lips together before folding her hands and carefully setting them in her lap, her shoulders back and straight, and her sterling posture confirmed what he’d known the second he’d seen her.
The old Brynn was back.
“I got a call from Susan today,” she said, her voice steady and even.
Will shook his head to indicate he didn’t follow.
“Susan’s my partner. She’s been covering me while I’ve been on this little…meltdown.”
Will didn’t misinterpret her word choice. Meltdown. Not adventure, or vacation, or even rebellion.
It had been a meltdown.
Her time had been cut short and now she had to justify it to herself. He got it. Had been waiting for it. Didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for her.
Will didn’t say a word. Didn’t prompt her. Didn’t give her a reassuring smile. He just waited.
“Anyway,” she said, licking her lips nervously. “Susan’s mom had a stroke. She’s flying down to San Jose this afternoon and will be in California for at least a week.”
“There’s nobody else who can cover?”
“Well, there’s Dr. Anders, but he’s not ready to handle the whole office by himself.”
“So what, you just go rushing back? Cut your vacation short?”
She gave a short huff of irritation. “It’s a Tuesday, Will. It’s time I start being an adult.”
His head snapped back slightly at the scorn in her voice, and he remembered her blatant dismissal of his own “work” the day before. Never mind that he had more money than he knew what to do with and had worked his ass off to launch some of the most innovative start-ups in the tech world. Never mind that he’d stepped back and put all of his companies on autopilot so that he could help her with her life.
“Got it. Better get going, then,” he said, calmly setting the coffee mug on the hearth and getting to his feet, not caring that he was buck-ass naked.
She averted her eyes and blushed, and damn if that didn’t just about say it all.
By the time Will got out of the shower, Brynn had already put half the stuff in the car and was wrestling with the big blue cooler, which was still heavy because it was still full. Full with food for a long getaway.
Full of hope for something that had just disappeared.
Will shook the maudlin thought from his head as he wordlessly pushed her out of the way and easily lifted the cooler into the trunk before tossing his duffel on top.
“Ready?”
If she noticed his curt tone, she didn’t show it, and she merely nodded before climbing into the passenger seat as he locked up the house. The overcast skies of yesterday were long gone, and the sun was warm and bright on his face as he headed toward the car.
It was an absolutely perfect day for the beach picnic he’d planned, and he opened his mouth to coax her into it.
But then he caught her glance at her watch and give a little sigh. So no picnic, then.
Will resisted the urge to slap his fist on the roof of the car before he took a deep breath and slid behind the wheel. He’d known it would come to this, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Brynn made pleasant, inane conversation most of the drive home, but he couldn’t manage more than a few forced smiles and courtesy laughs at her carefully worded stories.
This was dinner-party Brynn. And he hated it.
Finally she ran out of meaningless things to say and they rode in strained silence for the last thirty minutes of the trip.
By the time he pulled into Brynn’s driveway, his knuckles were clenched around the steering wheel. He’d spent the entire drive trying not to bellow like a wounded bear at her lack of acknowledgment of what had happened last night.
She was going to pretend that it hadn’t happened. That they hadn’t happened.
“You don’t have to see me in,” she said, putting a bright smile on her face.
His hand faltered briefly as he reached for her suitcase, half tempted to let her get the bag herself and scurry into the safety of her house where she could retreat behind nine-to-five and cardigans. Leaving him free to do…well, shit, he didn’t have the faintest idea.
Will yanked her bag out of the car with more force than necessary and waited patiently while she let him inside, both of them all polite manners as they were careful not to touch, not even in the most accidental of brushes.
It was only when he’d set her suitcase by the stairs and turned to face her that he saw a tiny break in her placid reserve. There was the briefest crumpling of her face, and he wanted to believe it was pain, regret, but then her expression went blank again and her spine stiffened with something else entirely.
Impatience.
She wanted him out of her house. Out of her life.
He forced himself to accept what he’d been suspecting the entire day.
He’d failed.
And it hurt.
Will allowed himself to meet her eyes—really meet them—for the first time since he’d woken up that morning and seen her with her suitcase.
“Just like that, then?” he asked.
“Will…”
He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his best derisive, you don’t matter smile. “I get it, Princess. No room for unemployed boy toys in your real life, huh?”
Her mouth went stubborn. “It’s not like that.”