It took me two full scans to understand the paperwork.
“A rental agreement?”
He sucked in a slow breath. “I’ve decided to keep the property a little bit longer. Rent it out instead of sell it. I think, given the market, I could make more money off my investment in five years. It’s a buyer’s market now.”
The market wasn’t great for sellers, but it wasn’t bad. I doubted five years would gain him much, but one never knew. My eyes skimmed the paperwork until they tangled on some numbers at the bottom.
Rental agreement: $125 a month.
But that was ridiculously low. In fact, that was—
Oh.
The implication hit me all at once. He was keeping the house so I could rent it.
For $125 a month.
Something hot ballooned in my chest. I slid the papers back to him, my lips pressed together.
Mixed signals alert. What was I supposed to do with this?
“I don’t know anyone who’s looking,” I said stiffly.
“Bethany, I . . .” His nostrils flared. “I’m not great at these conversations.”
“I know. It’s why we never had any.”
His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. “I thought it might help until you get back on your feet. You can rent this place for a low cost and—”
“I’m not off my feet,” I snapped.
He lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m not! The store had a twenty-five dollar profit last month. That’s twenty-five dollars that has never happened before. We bought a beautiful rug with it, if you’re asking. If your numbers don’t lie, I’m on track for a hundred-dollar profit next month. That will help pay for new clothes for school next year. It will only keep growing. That’s after I get paid, which means we’re fine.”
“For now. But raising kids means a lot of unexpected things pop up. You’re living in a single room with two teenage girls.”
“Oh? Is that right? Thank you for mansplaining that to me.”
His gaze tapered to dangerous slits.
“Why do you care?” I asked, voice shaky. “You’re leaving. And soon. Much . . . much sooner than I thought.”
His voice deepened to a roll of thunder. “That doesn’t mean I’m heartless.”
I turned, unable to face him.
“We both agreed this thing between us would be just what it is. I’ve accepted that you feel like you have to move on. That there’s nothing to keep you here. This? This rental agreement just . . . muddies the waters.”
“Bethany, I want you to be safe.”
“Then stay.” I whipped around. “Stay. Live in this house and travel to your next job, but come back to me. Let’s make this real. You and me. Committed. Dating. Figuring out if our lives can merge in a way that makes both of us better people. Long distance sucks, but it couldn’t be worse than this. We can make it happen. Success seems to just . . . flow to you.”
The air crackled with tension. Troubled ridges formed on his forehead. This wasn’t fair of me to ask. I knew that, deep down. He had never indicated he wanted a relationship, and it was dirty of me to try.
Still, the power between us couldn’t be denied.
If I didn’t try, I’d never forgive my cowardice. And at least, this way, I could live with myself.
“It’s not that simple,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because . . .”
A cold feeling washed over me. “You’re going to accept the position and work for Mallory?”
“No.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I mean . . . maybe. I haven’t decided officially.”
My heart felt swollen. Heavy. This was all my fault. I should never have let it happen. Let my aching heart fall hard again. It was like I wanted to remain broken.
“Bethany, if I stay, then you and I are going to fall deeper into . . . whatever this is.”
I paused, expecting him to finish, but he’d stopped.
“Wouldn’t that be the point?”
“That comes with expectations.”
“Like?”
He stood. “Like commitment and affection and time and . . . expectations.”
“You didn’t mind that affection twenty minutes ago when you slammed me against the wall.”
“Not just that kind of affection. But intimacy. Depth. I can’t control those variables. With successful ventures come expectations. The more successful you are, the more people want out of you. Eventually, you can’t live up to what they want, and everything suffers. Marriages fall apart. Love burns out. I’ve seen it time and time again with business, with Mallory, with Baxter. With my parents. I don’t want that for you.”
“This isn’t a business, Maverick!” I cried. “This is your life. It’s my