Everything About You

He sat up, too. “Of course you aren’t.”

“I don’t want to feel like you need to support me.”

“I don’t want you to feel like that, either. I’m just… I just…” He frowned. “I want to spend our summer together. I don’t want us going our separate ways. That’s all. And with the internship I need to get another place anyway, so I figured…” He scraped a hand through his dark hair and I watched that unruly lock fall across his forehead. “Were you planning on going home this summer and staying with your mom?”

“If I have no other choice.”

He shrugged. “Well, now you do.”

I shook my head at what he was suggesting. “I can’t let you pay for everything.”

“Then just pay me what you can. I’ll pick up the rest.”

I rubbed at my forehead. I wanted to be with him but I hated being broke. “Tate…”

“Roe, don’t say no. At least think about it first. We can stay in Pittsburgh this summer while I do my internship. You can look for a temporary full-time job somewhere and,” he shrugged, “we can see how it goes…”

The doors sliding open after the elevator reached ground floor pulled me out of the past and back to the present.

I was relieved the car hadn’t stopped on the sixth floor. It would’ve been my luck for Tate to get on the elevator with me when I was trying to avoid him.

I blinked and stared at Tate staring back at me.

Shit.

Before I could stop myself, my gaze raked him from head to foot like I was perusing a gourmet buffet.

He wore a crisp, well-fitted dark navy suit along with shined dress shoes. His beard appeared freshly trimmed and groomed, unlike the last time I saw him. But his hair didn’t match his sharp attire. It was mussed like he’d been dragging his fingers through it.

His beautiful blue eyes—the ones I had stared into for countless hours—were marred by having dark half-moons under them.

I guessed I wasn’t the only one who had lost some sleep.

Did I take pleasure in that? Maybe a little.

But then, with the memory that kept me company on the ride down from the penthouse, I was currently feeling pretty damn petty.

He waved his hand between the two elevators doors to keep them from closing. Of course, with me still standing inside the car like a dummy.

I mentally sighed and forced myself to step out.

Once I did, I held the doors for him since I assumed he was heading up to his apartment. However, I was curious as to why he was coming in dressed like that instead of going the opposite direction and leaving for work.

Maybe he was working nights at some local news station.

Maybe it was best if I didn’t care.

After the elevator dinged a couple of times at me for holding the door and Tate still stood there not moving, I pulled my hand away and let the doors close. The car would remain at lobby level unless a resident pushed the down button on their floor.

I tried to ignore how utterly fucking delicious he looked in his crisp suit that hugged his thighs and waist, and the jacket that made his chest and shoulders look even broader…

While me? I was headed into my office wearing a much beloved Pittsburgh Pirates T-shirt, worn black jeans with a few in-style, strategically placed rips and my favorite pair of broken-in, black Timberlands.

Very professional, of course.

Truth was, I wasn’t out to impress anyone. I normally didn’t deal directly with the public and my employees didn’t care what I wore. I also didn’t care what they wore. I trusted them all to make the right decision for the right situation when it came to their wardrobe.

If it was a day they could get away with dressing casual, they did. If it was a day they had a face-to-face meeting, they dressed for success. I did the same. If I had an important meeting with outsiders, I’d break out my dreaded dressy attire and play the part of the successful businessman and investor.

Unlike today, when I had dressed to try to simply make it through the day.

The growing silence between us became awkward, so I finally said, “All right, well…” Then I stared at him for a few more seconds before turning to head to where I parked my vehicles.

I jerked in surprise when his hand snaked out and snagged my forearm to stop me. “Roe…”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I didn’t want to talk about two nights ago. I didn’t want to talk about twelve years ago. I didn’t want to talk about anything with him.

I stared at where he held me for a second, then lifted my eyes to his face.

When I tipped my head at his hand, he quickly released me and asked, “Do you have jumper cables?”