It would hurt.
But there was no avoiding that.
Because this was necessary.
To be honest, it had been necessary for a long time.
Everyone knew it.
Everyone saw it.
But no one would do it.
This office full of men, and she was the only one with balls enough to get it said already.
“Hey, Miller,” Kai greeted, kicked back in his chair, legs off the corner of his messy desk, hands throwing an Earth-colored stress ball up in the air. “You need me for something?”
“We need to talk,” she specified, closing and locking the door.
“Uh-oh. She’s got her serious-voice on.”
Miller liked Kai.
Loved, actually.
Maybe more than anyone else in the office.
Maybe it was because they had simply done so many jobs side-by-side, had been in the trenches with each other, forming bonds.
Or, well, maybe it was simply because the man was just… lovable.
If you needed one of his kidneys and half of his liver, he’d fucking give it. No questions.
That was just how he was.
And she had to be the one to tell him that he couldn’t have what he wanted most.
“What’s up, Miller?” he asked, putting down the ball, pulling his legs off the desk, leaning his arms on it, bringing him closer to her as she took the seat across from him.
Quin ragged on Kai about his office, being a man who liked things organized and classy.
But Kai thrived in chaos.
He had piles of files on his desk, research books nearly toppling off the dark wood cabinet lining the right wall. A wall he had bright neon thumbtacks sticking out of, holding up pictures that likely went with some of his files.
There was a backpack hanging off the hook on the back of the door, likely full of magazines, snacks, and changes of clothes. Wrinkled, knowing him.
He had music coming through his computer, and Miller reached across to shut it off.
“Enough,” she said, the word coming out both forceful and pleading at the same time.
“Enough of what? My award-winning charm?” he asked with another of his smiles, the ones that lit up a room, making her feel all the worse for what was to come.
“Enough with Jules,” she clarified, watching as Kai’s brows drew together.
“What…”
“You know what I mean,” she cut him off. “Everyone in this office knows what I mean.”
“I haven’t done anything inappropriate,” he objected.
“Well, that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” she asked, rolling her eyes as she reached up to run a hand through her long dark hair, settling it more to one side than the other.
“I’m sorry?”
“You choked, Kai,” she explained shrugging a shoulder. “You saw something you wanted. And you choked. It was sweet at first, y’know? Who doesn’t like watching a little crush blossom? Especially at work. But it stopped being sweet about a year and a half ago.”
Kai’s chest deflated as his head dropped slightly, looking at the surface of his desk.
He knew she was right.
He knew he had blown his shot.
“I can’t help that I like her, Miller.”
Like was a weak word.
Anyone who saw the way the man looked at her knew it leaned a lot more heavily toward love than like.
He looked at her like she was the sole reason he got out of bed in the morning.
Hell, maybe she was some days.
“I get that. I mean, I don’t,” she admitted as an afterthought. “I love how big your heart is, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t get how you can continue to love someone who doesn’t love you back. At least not in the same way.”
Because Jules did love Kai.
We all did.
He was the only person in the office who managed to make her smile on a rough day.
She hated anyone in her space, but never once told him to go away when he pulled up a chair to keep her company, to organize her clips and brads and pens – even though he had never organized his own.
She genuinely did care for him.
And maybe, just maybe, if he had found the courage to tell her how he felt instead of expecting her to piece it together herself, she might have been willing to let things get inappropriate.
“It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t feel the same,” Kai said. And, what’s more, he meant that. He didn’t care that she didn’t return his feelings, he still wanted to continue to treat her like she was the sun that everything in the world revolved around.
“Kai, she’s minutes away from getting engaged. You know that. I know that. Everyone knows that. You’ve got to rein it in a little.”
“He doesn’t deserve her,” Kai said, but there was a resignation in his voice. It was a damn shame, too, to hear it.
“I know.”
Of course she knew.
She hated the weaselly little shit.
She didn’t say that since Jules had her mind made up on the man after what seemed like their third date. And, well, who was she to say anything about relationships when she never managed to hold onto one?