I say.
“How do you feel about that?” she asks, surprising me with how soft her voice is.
“I feel fine about it. I’m not impulsive, Confidence. When I act, it’s after long deliberation. There have been moments in my life where I didn’t think, where I just acted, and I hurt people without any really good reason. The ends didn’t justify the means.”
“You should hear yourself, Hayes. You’re a stage five control freak,” she says, but her voice is completely devoid of recrimination. In fact, I hear shades of pity, and I don’t fucking like it.
“I have to be,” I say tightly.
She holds her hand out to me and I step forward and take it.
She brings it to her lips and brushes the back of them in a sweeping motion. She looks up at me through her lashes, and I’m struck by how every time she looks at me, her eyes nearly lay me flat.
“You can’t control people, Hayes,” she whispers, and a knot tightens in my chest at the distress in her voice.
“I’m not trying to control anyone. I just take opportunities when I see them,” I say and before she can cut me off, I tell her what I’ve been dreading. “Like when I realized that Kingdom wasn’t going to do anything they weren’t forced to when it came to the tenants, I knew Remi would need the best lawyer on his team.”
“What do you mean?” she asks and then her eyes widen and her mouth falls open.
She drops my hand. “You didn’t,” she says quietly.
I’m shocked she hasn’t guessed already. She jumps to her feet. “If you say that you asked Remi to hire me, I am going to walk out of this room, and if you try to stop me I will scream at the top of lungs until someone calls the police,” she yells.
Fuck.
“I didn’t ask Remi to hire you,” I hedge.
“But?” she bites out between her clenched jaw.
“But, I did bring you to his attention,” I say.
She growls and balls her fists.
“Why, Hayes? Because you wanted me here so badly that you’d convince your friend to give me a job I wouldn’t be considered for otherwise? How do you think that makes me feel? After everything I shared with you, you know that is the very last thing I would want,” she says and starts for the door.
My arm whips out like a lasso and I draw her to me.
“No, you aren’t leaving,” I say. “And scream because the closest house is three empty lots away. And you’ll be screaming for nothing because you know I will not hurt a hair on your head to keep you from leaving,” I say.
She looks pointedly at her arm, where my hand is cuffed around it.
I let go.
“I’m not holding you, but you’re not walking out of here over that. You needed a job. This one was perfect for you, and Remington already had your resume. He just needed someone to vouch for you. And I did,” I say. “But you know him now. Do you think he would have hired you because his friend asked him to? His twin sister works somewhere else because he won’t hire her,” I remind her.
Some of the fight flows out of her.
“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” she questions. Her voice is raised to a near shout, her eyes are pools of conflict. She’s angry, hurt, but she also … understands.
“Because you are so fucking stubborn, Tesoro,” I say in exasperation. “You would have cut off your nose to spite your face and spit in Remi’s the minute you knew I was involved,” I say.
“I would not have,” she says.
“Liar,” I taunt her.
“I would not have. Not everything is about you,” she says.
“Liar,” I say again.
“Stop saying that,” she says angrily.
“Stop lying,” I say.
“You are not a mind reader!” she yells now. She’s practically vibrating, but with something much more potent, vibrant, and transformative than anger. It is relief and acquiescence. She’s relenting.
I press my advantage.
“You and I are cut from the same cloth, molded from the same earth, sky, water, and fire. I can read you.” I trace a line down her forearm.
“Did you do this because you wanted me to take you back?” she asks and points out at the development.
“Partly, yes. But not just because I want you on my arm and in my bed, but because I need you by my side,” I say.
“You do?” she asks, and I laugh at the surprise in her voice.
I nod