Wild Love (Rose Hill, #1)(71)

His eyes search my face.

“With work. With Cora. But mostly with you. I don’t know what to do with you. West is… He’s such a loyal friend. Possibly my only true friend. Such a long-standing part of my life. And you work for me now, and that…” He runs his hand through his hair, mussing it just the way I like. “That makes everything so much worse in my head. So much more complicated.”

I stare back at him. Reading the indecision that consumes him.

“I stepped away from running Gramophone because my business partners became people I didn’t recognize. Actually, I didn’t step away. I was ousted from the board and left as just another shareholder. We were college friends, and we founded that app with the best intentions. We founded that app because we loved music. Or at least I thought so. But money changed their goals, their outlooks… their loyalty.”

My throat aches. My chest hurts. “Ford.” I reach out and squeeze his knee. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I had no idea.”

His warm palm lands over mine. “Been too embarrassed to tell anyone. I guess it was nice that they agreed to say I was leaving my role to start a new venture.”

I sit up, ready to punch someone for making this man, who brims with integrity and reliability, feel so low. Both hands on his knees now, I lean forward. “That was not nice of them, Ford. It was a cover for themselves. Fuck them.”

He sighs. “I know. But I still… The pressure to keep up with my perfect record. To found another successful company so I don’t look like a fool of a trust fund baby. I just… Remember when you told me you were tired?”

I nod, gathering his calloused hands in mine.

“I’m tired too, Rosie. Everything inside me feels so fraught, and I just want to get it all right.”

“You’re doing great. I don’t tell you enough, but you’re incredible. Your life has been turned upside down in so many ways. And here you are, excelling. Persevering. You aren’t the titles those magazines give you—hell, you aren’t even the titles I give you. You’re a good man who is doing his best. And your best is more than good enough.”

“But Cora?—”

“Is going to be fine.”

He just glares, so I carry on.

“Listen to me. Your taste in music is mediocre and your fashion sense is mountain-man-but-make-it-expensive. Your bank account is so full that you don’t even know what to do with it.”

“Great, thank you,” he says dryly.

“A lot of the time, your vocabulary consists of grunts and bitchy, one-word answers.”

“You should see how big my dick is, though.”

I roll my eyes and forge ahead, trying not to get tripped up by the mention of his dick and how annoyed I am that I haven’t seen it yet. “You grew up rich with a celebrity father. You founded a world-famous music-streaming service. Your bar is where musicians get discovered. You’re about to work with some of the planet’s most talented artists. I bet you donate to charity.”

“I do.”

“But from where I’m sitting, she’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”

That strikes him silent.

“I mean, look at her. She’s smart, she’s funny, and she’s so damn special. Give her everything you’ve got right now. She needs you. Nothing is more important. The rest can wait.” He’s still staring at me. Knees on his elbows. Face drawn.

Hands over his mouth.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us, Ford. But there’s something, no point in denying it. And yeah, it’s messy. And complicated. And confusing. And I also worry that if things go sideways, it could be really bad. For both of us and for everyone around us. Especially Cora. And since I basically played a part in her conception?—”

He groans and scrubs both hands over his face. “I already regret telling you that.”

“Yeah, and it’s even in writing. But anyway, stop overthinking it. Let’s just carry on like nothing happened. Go back to being frenemies who don’t… exchange pens. This thing is so new, it never even got any legs, so nothing needs to change. I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”

I wonder if he can hear the lie in my words. I won’t be fine. But there’s too much at stake. I don’t want to hurt his and West’s relationship, and I especially don’t want Cora to get attached to the idea of something that might just be a blip on the radar. She doesn’t need anything else in her life that isn’t permanent.

“I worry about you,” is all he says. And I can hear the anguish in his words.

“Why? I got a really great make-out session behind the bar and the world’s okayest orgasm out of the deal.”

He drops his head between his knees now. Like he’s on a plane, preparing for a crash landing.

I chuckle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry over it.”

“Rosie. You kill me.”

“That was funny. Why aren’t you laughing?”

Now his head tips up. Eyes glowing neon, like they defy the dim light in the living room. “There’s nothing funny about the way I want you.”

I swallow, and my gaze snags on the silver chain that has slipped out from behind the V-neck of his T-shirt.

The pendant is dangling between us, in plain sight. I’ve felt it before in my hand but never really processed what it was. I reach for it and feel the familiar smooth metal of the key that’s attached, warmed from resting against his skin.