Dane

Dane's heart sank as he caught the wariness and fear in her. He knew he'd been so hard on her, so up and down. She didn't trust him right now. And it was his fault.

​​

"I—" his throat caught and he swallowed. She didn't look away. "I'm glad you're here. I admire you, too. I don't think anyone else could have weathered the storm of this week. And I'm…I'm just glad you're here."

There was a moment. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes got wider. He could see her breathing quicken and he realized how close he was sitting. He leaned in, so slowly. Was he going to do this? Would he break every rule?

Could he do anything else?

Then she shrank back, leaned away, and he remembered how she'd done that in the stairwell too.

She never backed away from him, it's part of what he loved about her. But now she'd done it twice.

"Fuck," he muttered and sat back, leaning against the couch, hands on his face. "Fuck, I'm sorry Delilah, I'm just…fuck."

"It's fine," she breathed.

"No, it's not. I'm an asshole. Sorry. It's just been a rough day." He rubbed his face, but couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. Instead he stared at the ceiling. It wasn't spinning anymore, but he still had that slightly off feeling and he'd let it lead him into a stupid, stupid place. He wouldn't blame her if she did quit.

"Please don't quit," he said quietly.

"I…I wasn't planning on it," she said. "I just wondered, I mean, it seems like I create a lot of stress for you."

Dane snorted, but there was no humor in it. "Everything creates stress for me."

She shifted in her seat so she faced him more. At least she wasn't pulling away anymore. What a fucking asshole. Her arm brushed his and his skin prickled, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it, couldn't even look at her. Embarrassment crept up the back of his neck. Fuck. Was he blushing?

"Dane, are you okay?"

"Of course I am," he replied without hesitation. Liar, liar, liar.

"I mean, the reason I came up here was because I wanted to check on you. It seemed like you were having a rough time today, after the press conference, and—"

"Yes, I was. But I'm fine now. I took the afternoon off. Had a drink. I'm great." His flat voice didn't fool either of them, but now he wished she would go. But he didn't know how to ask without being even more of an asshole. "You're good at what you do, Delilah. Don't let me discourage you. I get mad a lot. At everyone. It's my problem. Not yours."

"Thank you," she said and laid a hand on his arm.

He was up and out of the seat, away from her faster than a thought. He couldn't let her touch him—he'd almost kissed her and she'd pulled away from him. Now she was just being kind because…fuck, she was pitying him. "You don't need to worry about me, Delilah. I'm fine. Let me walk you out."

She'd startled when he leapt up, but hadn't stood. Now she was frowning at him. "What just happened?"

"Nothing. It's late. I appreciate you checking on me. Sorry I'm a drunk asshole."

She just held his gaze and tugged at that blanket. For a second his eyes dropped to it and he wondered how much she was wearing under it. He'd felt her warmth—no! He turned away, shaking his head. "You need to go."

"What? Why?"

He turned, exasperated. "Ten minutes ago I practically had to drag you in here, now you're going to argue about leaving? Is it just in your nature to fight anything I say?"

Her face tightened and she got to her feet. "No, Dane. You're up and down like a yo-yo today. I'm worried about you. I want to help."

"I don't need help. But thanks." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her pointedly. He expected her to spark, get angry, like he would. He was being rude and he knew it. But instead she just eyed him and swallowed.

"Why won't you let anyone help you?" she said in a small voice.

He surprised himself by answering honestly. "Lots of people have tried, and it never worked. They always end up leaving anyway, so what's the point? Trust me, Delilah, for your own sake, just focus on your job and ignore me."

"But—"

"I'll do my best to stop yelling at you. I really will. But…that's just kind of a part of me. You might have to get used to it some. But I'll try."

"I wouldn't mind the yelling if I knew it was just blowing off steam, but it seems like you really mean it."

"Stop. Pushing," he said through his teeth.

She nodded thoughtfully. "How about a safe word?"

He choked. "A what?" She'd done it. She'd shocked him. The only context he knew for a safe word was when they were having se—

"A word we use when the other is going too far. If I say it, you promise to walk away and cool off. And if you say it, I know it's time to stop pushing you. That you've hit your limit. Could make things a little more…manageable at the office."

Not what he thought she meant when she said safe word, but…the idea had merit. So why was his heart sinking? "Okay. I can go with that. What should it be?"

She thought for a moment. "How about Rupert?"

"Rup—What the hell kind of safe word is that?"

"It's my cat's name," she ground out. "And it's not a word either of us will normally use. So no chance of accidentally shutting each other down."

He was done. This was getting ridiculous. "Okay, fine. Rupert is it. Not going to forget that one, that's for sure."

She flinched at his sarcasm, but didn't say anything. She just tugged up the blanket and started around the couch to towards the door. "Good night, Dane. I hope you can sleep tonight."

"You too," he muttered.

She sighed, but kept moving. "I'm glad…I'm glad you're feeling better. Sorry I came so late."

Reluctantly he followed her until she'd pulled the door open. "Do you want me to send a security guy to walk you down?" he asked quietly, holding the door while she walked through, but she turned right before she crossed the threshold. He was left leaning over her, one hand on the door, the other on the frame, her staring up at him, so close her head was craned back to meet his eyes.

"No," she said and her voice was tight. "I don't need your help. Thanks. I'll see you at the office in the morning!"

And she was gone. Unwilling to face the staff who were across the reception and watching curiously, but trying not to be obvious about it, Dane closed the door and turned away. But as soon as he did, his shoulders slumped.

What the hell had he done?

*

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