Chapter Eighteen

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Make Me Need

Katee Robert

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“ENOUGHISENOUGH. Stop moping.”

Cameron almost ignored Aaron looming in his doorway, but he’d been avoiding his friend for the week since Trish took the interview—and got the job. Even though he’d suspected she’d nail the interview, he still hadn’t come to terms with just how comfortable he’d gotten with her in the office. The new girl was always underfoot and, though she didn’t exactly curl up in a ball and cry when he snarled at her, she was no Trish.

That was the problem, though.

After Trish, no one else would do.

Not just for the job. For his fucking life.

“Cameron.”

“I’m not moping. I’m working.” He closed the window and shut down his computer. He wasn’t going to get anything else accomplished today, so there was no point in sticking around.

Especially if Aaron was going to corner him for some kind of misguided intervention. He pushed to his feet, but his friend hadn’t moved from his spot blocking the doorway. Cameron stopped short. “We’re not having this conversation.”

“Wrong. The fact that I’ve waited this long is only because we’re friends and I was waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and fix things. Since you’re showing no signs of doing so, I’m stepping in.” Aaron walked into his office and closed the door. He leaned back against it. “When were you going to tell me you’re in love with my sister?”

He should have known Aaron would pick up on that. He’d overheard their conversation, after all, and he wasn’t an idiot. “I wasn’t going to tell you. It’s a moot point. She left.”

“No shit, she left. She got a job with one of her dream companies. You can’t actually have expected her to stay.”

Why did people keep speaking the obvious to him? Of course he didn’t expect her to stay. Hoping that she would was akin to hoping her dreams would be dashed yet again, and Cameron wasn’t monstrous enough to wish for something that would hurt her.

No matter how much her leaving felt like she’d ripped his heart out of his chest and taken it with her.

Since Aaron obviously had more to say, he crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. “I want her to be happy. I wasn’t going to hold her back.”

Aaron stared at him hard, a flinty look in his blue eyes. He shared similar coloring as Trish, though where she seemed soft and almost innocent in some ways with her curls and freckles, Aaron’s looks were carved of ice when he wasn’t in the mood to deal with people’s bullshit. Much like he seemed to be in that moment. He finally shook his head. “How long have we known each other?”

Was that a trick question? “Going on fifteen years now.”

“Yeah. Fourteen years and some change. In all that time, I’ve never seen you hesitate—not even when you should hesitate. If you really love her... Fuck, Cameron, is now going to be the moment you decide to break your streak? You’re better than this.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?”he roared. “I didn’t hold her back. I stepped out of the way so she could do what she needed to do without feeling guilty. Why the hell am I being asked for more? I’m not a fucking magician to perform a trick and suddenly make this all okay.”

Aaron didn’t so much as blink. “This is a problem, and you fix problems.”

“I fix problems with computers—not with people.”

“Figure it the fuck out, Cameron. If you don’t, you’re going to lose her. The clock started running down the second you let her walk out that door without offering a solution, a compromise, a single goddamn word.” He pulled an envelope out of his suit jacket and tossed it onto Cameron’s desk. “She’s miserable, in case you were wondering. This is the happiest she should ever be, and she’s so sad, she can barely pull together a fake smile for our parents. She hasn’t even bothered trying with me and Becka.”

He didn’t want to hear that. If he was falling on his sword for her, he wanted her to be happy. More than happy. He wanted her to be walking on air and untouchable. “Why the hell are we doing this if we’re both miserable?”

“That is the question you should be asking—and answering.” Aaron pushed off the door, opened it and walked out without looking back. “Let me know when you have an answer.”

Cameron slumped down onto his desk and stared at the plain white envelope. It was smaller than standard, half the width and length of a normal envelope, and the only thing written on it was his name. Even after such a short time together, he recognized the rounded letters of Trish’s handwriting.

What else could she possibly have left to say?

He shut and locked his door and sat behind his desk once more to carefully open the letter. It was a torn piece of paper that looked like she’d written on as an afterthought.

Or written on in a flurry before she could second-guess herself about the wisdom of writing in the first place.

He took a second to wish he kept whiskey stashed in a drawer, then began to read.

Cam,

God, I don’t even know what to say. You’re right. This is what I wanted...except it’s not what I wanted. I never expected to fall in love with you. I never wanted it. It hurts, Cam. A lot. I know love is complicated and not as easy as in the movies, but this is just ridiculous. How am I supposed to choose between the career I’ve spent most of my life wanting and you? It’s not fair, and I know that’s a child’s plea, but I’m feeling suitably dramatic.

You’re probably gritting your teeth about now and wondering what the hell my point is.

It goes like this—you hurt me when you didn’t try to stop me from leaving. Stupid, right? I know it is, so you don’t have to tell me so. I had this moment of surety that if you turned that indomitable will to us, if you loved me, too, then maybe we could figure things out.

You were pretty clear about where you stood, and I’m trying to respect that. I’m sorry if I hurt you at any point, because that really wasn’t my intention. But you know what they say about good intentions...

All this is just a long way of saying goodbye. And I’m a selfish ass, because I’m doing it in a letter that you won’t have a chance to respond to because I’m afraid if you say a single word, then I won’t go. You were right about that, too—I have to go. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder what my life would have been like, and that’s not fair to either one of us.

I hope you end up happy, Cam. I really do. Maybe not right now, or next week, but at some point in the future.

—Trish

He let the letter drift to his desk. “The fuck you think you get to have the last word, Trish. Goddamn it.” She loved him, and she was going to send him a goddamn letter instead of giving him a chance to fix this. She was going to wish him well, as if that wasn’t the height of insanity.

He stared blindly at his blank computer screen. There was a solution to this. Aaron was right on that count, though there’d be no living with him once Cameron admitted it. He just had to figure it out. The old saying about not being able to have your cake and eat it, too, was bullshit. He wanted his fucking cake.

He wanted Trish.

He’d find a way for them to be together.

There was no longer an option where he sat back and let her ride into the sunset without him.

Not when he knew she loved him, too.

Trish clicked Play for the third time in a row and waited for the credits to play out to restart The Proposal. She wasn’t sure if she’d even liked this movie before this weekend, but it was on demand on the hotel TV and after the first time watching it, she’d cried and cried and started it over from the beginning.

She pulled her comforter tighter around her shoulders. She only had one more day to get this out of her system before she had to show up for work on Monday. Barton Fashion hadn’t hired brokenhearted and can’t-stop-crying Trish, they’d hired bright and peppy and sunny Trish. She didn’t know how she was going to pull it off, but she’d figure it out sometime in the next twenty-four hours.

Plenty of time.

Just like the rest of her life, stretching out before her in a uniform without-Cameron road.

She shouldn’t have left that letter with Aaron. It was cowardly and stupid, and begging Cameron to fix things after she made this choice wasn’t fair. Trish used a tissue to wipe at her eyes, wishing the tears would just stop. What if Cameron had already read the letter? What if he was... God, she didn’t even know, but dread cloaked her in an unrelenting wave with the suspicion that she’d just somehow made everything so much worse.

She dialed her phone before she could talk herself out of it. It’s just to fix things. It’s definitely not so I can hear his voice again. She didn’t really expect him to answer. He had to hate her now, which meant he’d let the call go through and she’d leave a stammering voice mail begging him not to read any absurd letter that Aaron gave him, and that would be that. Simple.

Liar.

“Trish?”

Her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest. Oh God, he answered. “Cam?”

“Is everything okay?”

How could he sound so calm and put together when she’d cried her way through a jumbo box of tissues and eaten her weight in chocolate chip cookies? My fault. Not fair to ask him to react the same when I made this call. She cleared her throat. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.” He didn’t immediately say anything, so she kept talking, needing to get it out before she lost her last connection to him, however small. “I did a selfish thing and wrote you a letter, and if Aaron hasn’t given it to you, I would really appreciate if you burn the damn thing once he does. And if he has—”

“He has.”

Oh shit.“Oh. Ah... Okay. Maybe we can pretend it never happened and move on with our lives?” She looked around the hotel room and her gaze settled on the hot mess the mirror reflected at her. Eyes red from crying, hair in a permanent case of bedhead, still wearing the same pajamas she’d changed into when she’d left her training on Friday.

“Is that what you really want?”

She didn’t have an answer to that. Not one that had any kind of solution. Did she want to move on with her life without Cameron? Hell no. But she didn’t see a way forward for them, no matter how hard she’d tried. “I don’t—”

“Honesty, Trish.”

She could do this. She could be honest with him. Trish clutched the phone to her ear. “No, I don’t want to move on with my life.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you.”

He exhaled harshly. “Thank fuck for that.”

A knock sounded at her hotel door. She froze, half-sure that she was imagining things, but it came again almost immediately. “Just, uh, one second.” She climbed off the bed and padded to the door. Maybe it was the maid service? Though it should be too late in the day... Trish opened the door and stared. “Cameron.”

“Hey, Trish.” His voice echoed in her ear where she still held the phone. She gave herself a shake and ended the call. “I don’t... What are you doing here?”

He glanced past her into the hotel room and raised his brows. “Can I come in?”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.” She skittered back and wrapped her arms around herself. He was here. Why was he here?

He only moved into the room enough to shut the door. “I read your letter.” He pinned her with a look. “What the fuck kind of cowardly shit was that? You wrote me a letter, Trish. A phone call would have been a hell of a lot better, if only because it would have given me a chance to respond.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Had he come all this way to yell at her about the stupid letter?

“I’m not.” Still, he didn’t approach her. “I found a solution, though your brother thinks I’ve lost my damn mind. I don’t care. I watched you walk out of my life once, and I’ll be damned if I sit back in New York knowing that you love me and I love you. Fuck that. I choose you, Trish.”

What was he saying? Hope fluttered cautious wings in her throat. “A long-distance relationship—”

“I split the company. It’s past time we had a West Coast base of operations, and Aaron is more than capable of handling anything that pops up in New York by himself with his new assistant. We’re going to each build a little at a time and expand Tandem Security accordingly. Right now, I’m working remote until I figure out where we’re landing, but that’s the deal—I land where you land, Trish.” He hesitated, something vulnerable creeping past his customary confidence. “That is, if you still want me to find a solution. If you still want me. I know I was a dick before and—”

“Shut up.” She threw herself into his arms and kissed him with everything she had. By the time she came up for air, she was shaking. “You’re serious. You moved across the country for me.”

“I haven’t actually moved yet. But the plans are in place.” He gave a soft smile. “I wanted to be sure you hadn’t changed your mind before I chased you down and branded myself a stalker.”

She peppered his jaw with kisses. “Of course I didn’t change my mind, you crazy man. How could I? I love you. I love you so much, and I’m sorry I never told you. That stupid letter—”

“I’m framing it.”

“What?”

“The letter.” He lifted her into his arms and started for the bed. It took Cameron all of three steps to reach it in the small hotel room. “I’m keeping it forever. I’m keeping you forever.” He tumbled her back onto the bed and settled beside her. His gaze snagged on the television and he frowned. “Sandra Bullock?”

“The movie makes me think of you. She’s this cranky boss who overworks her hapless assistant and they end up falling in love.” She leaned up and kissed him. “You’re cuter than she is, though.”

“Thanks.” Cameron pushed her curls back from her face. “I’d like to take you to meet my parents next weekend.”

“I’d like that.” She cupped his jaw. “I bet they’ll be happy to know that you’re in the same state as they are.”

“Probably.” He gave her a wicked grin. “But, mark my words, my mom is going to start in on when we’re going to give her grandchildren.”

Trish laughed. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t dared think there might be a way for her and Cameron to be together, yet here he was, in her bed again and offering her the solution to everything. She snuggled closer to him. “It’ll be at least a few years.”

“No doubt.” He sounded a little choked, as if the thought of kids panicked him, which only made her laugh harder.

She wrapped her leg over his waist and pulled him closer. “But there’s no reason we can’t practice in the meantime. Lots and lots of practice.”

“I love you, woman.”

“Say it again.”

His lips brushed her ear. “I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m never letting you go.”

“Good,” she breathed. “Now take off your clothes.”

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