Perfect for Me by Claudia Burgoa

Chapter Five

Hazel

“Memories are dangerous things. You turn them over and over, until you know every touch and corner, but still you’ll find an edge to cut you.” ― Mark Lawrence

“Are you okay?”Fitz arches an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Not… I hold my breath and grab my stomach as the stampede of feelings slams against me all at once. My mind could only handle so much before it froze. There’s a level of pain that’s so deep, so severe that the soul can no longer feel it. Finally, there’s stillness. The numbness overtakes my body. But my heart continues thumping fast against my rib cage.

I exhale, looking around my office. The two men I didn’t expect to see for a long time suddenly reappear in my life—at the same time.

Elliot’s presence makes sense. Kyle’s the one to blame. But Scott…What happened to his, we can’t be anything more, Hazel?

His presence baffles me. Scott should’ve given me more time to lick my wounds and heal my broken heart. Not that he knows he broke it.

“Did you forget to tell me he was coming, Fitzhenry?” I feign anger.

Anger and a cold mask are my best weapons to keep everyone at arm’s length when I’m crumbling inside. I can’t talk to Fitz about his brother. Not yet.

“No. Scott has been acting weird for a while. At least when you’re around, he’s civil. I’m pretty sure you know something, just dig a little deeper.”

“You’re insane.” I close my eyes briefly, tossing my head back slightly. After a few seconds, I make my way to the door.

“Haze,” Fitz calls me.

I halt. Turning around, I wait for a lecture from him.

“My theory is that Scott misses you, even more than the rest of us.”

“I doubt it,” I counter his theory.

“He’s here,” he states the obvious. “Scott is always near you.”

My heart skips a beat with Fitz’s words. Is Scott here to be with me?

I huff. “You’re wrong.”

“Now I get why he was rushing me earlier. He had an important flight to catch.” His shoulders slump. “This isn’t about us, though, but you. Are you sure about this move?”

“Yeah,” I hear the little voice barely passing through my lips.

No, I’m not sure anymore. But this is the only way I can move forward. Thinking about my future always keeps me sane—grounded.

“You don’t have to do this,” he repeats. “We can hire a new director of operations for these offices who’ll report to you.”

He presses his lips together, darting his eyes in my direction. “Home is in New York.”

Smiling, I remind him why I’m here. “One day, Granpa’s company will be mine.”

Not that the answer makes sense, but saying, “I get the chance to start again,” will bring questions I don’t want to answer. This is my opportunity to move on with my life.Escape far away from the memories of Scott, far from my dreams of having a family—with him.

But it didn’t happen because he’s here. And to add to the weight of his presence, the feelings I had for Elliot are resurfacing.

What happened to “starting a new chapter?”

Everything was so clear. The chance to try something different presented itself. My estranged father and I finally settled our relationship. He chose to travel for the rest of his life over his daughters. I’m free to choose my destiny. Except the feelings for Scott and Elliot are dragging me inside an emotional vortex.

“As always, I support you, babe. But I don’t want to leave you alone. I can pack and move closer to you.” Fitz points at the upstairs floor. “I can open an extension of my firm right up there. I just don’t think you want to do this.”

I hug him.

Fitz is my three-in-the-morning call. The guy who will help me bury a body.

“You are crazy, Fitzy. I doubt your brothers will survive without you.”

We walk toward reception.

He tilts his head toward the elevator. “Look at that poor bastard. In less than twenty-four hours, he’s here because of you. I’m not sure if your grandfather, my brothers, or I will survive without you, Hazel.”

He touches his chest lightly. “You are the one who holds us together.”

I shake my head. “Scott is the glue of the Everharts.”

“Maybe,” he says, narrowing his gaze. “But something tells me you’re the one who keeps him together.”

Reaching for Fitz’s hand, I squeeze it. “Oh, Fitz, there’s that imagination of yours.” I spin around and leave him behind.

Scott pokes the elevator button when he spots us. His eyes don’t leave mine. “Are you okay, Bee?”

I shrug my left shoulder slightly, letting it drop. Maybe I’d be better if he had helped me pack last week. Perhaps I’d be better if my future wasn’t up in the air, and my past wasn’t here reminding me of my failures and the impossibilities.

Scott presses his lips into a thin line, exhales loudly, and takes my hand once the elevator opens. We step inside, he looks at Fitz and says, “Take the stairs, little brother.”

Fitzhenry looks at me. I nod slightly, and he turns around.

“You don’t look okay,” Scott states the obvious as the doors close.

“No, I’m confused.” I sigh, staring at the burnt orange carpet.

“You should’ve stayed in New York,” I denounce.

“Why would I when you’re here?” His intense gaze is piercing my skin but caressing my soul. Scott is the only man I know who can be loving yet cold.

“The last time I checked, you didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true.” His voice resonates through the elevator walls. He presses the button to hold the elevator.

“We haven’t talked since the night I told everyone about my decision,” I remind him, lacking patience and sweetness. “You abandoned me.”

“I’d never abandon you,” he retorts, scrubbing down his face with both hands.

“Then, tell me, when was the last time we spoke?” I shoot a question that’ll confirm his abandonment. “I mean outside the office.”

“Eight days,” he responds. “But I’d never leave you.”

My head snaps, and I stare at him as he responds with the exact number of days. He’s aware of what he did, but why did he do it?

“I didn’t want to be like the rest and keep telling you to stay because this matters to you,” he explains further. “But that doesn’t mean I abandoned you. I made a promise that I’ll always be by your side.”

His eyes pin me down, the weight of his words pressing on my chest.

“If you think this is where you belong, well then, I support you.”

My nails cut into the heel of my hand. Rage takes the reins of my mood. Is he freaking kidding me?

“This is what I needed to hear before I left.”

Those words filled with unconditional support. Instead, I received a memo with a checklist of what I had to do before my departure.

“You could’ve handled it differently,” I fume, unable to control the anger that continues flowing through my veins.

It’s like a rush of adrenaline that’s giving me the power to unleash everything I kept under a lid.

“Why couldn’t you be like this back then?”

“I should’ve acted differently. But you have to understand,” he huffs, closing his eyes briefly. “In one day, we went from hosting Christmas in Vermont together to I might move to California.”

We didn’t host Christmas. You hosted it, and I was there to organize everything. There’s never been a “we.”He makes it sound like we were a happy couple in love who hosted a family gathering.

“You switched the setting, and what was I supposed to do?” He breathes loudly, like the fire breathing dragon that he pretends to be with everyone else. After a few seconds, his shoulders pull back, and the storm inside his eyes calms.

“I’m sorry. I know you, and I know that my shortness can be hurtful.” He lifts his hand, but just as he’s about to caress my face, he stops. “I didn’t intend to hurt you. I just had to work through it.”

“You had to work through what?”

Scott is complicated. And though I’ve learned to decipher every one of his gestures, it’s been hard to guess what he wants for lunch lately. To think I was in love with him.

Was I in love, or am I in love?

My heart comes to a stop as the memories of his sweet, passionate kisses crash against the memories of Elliot. My uncertainty is back again, this time punching my heart and drowning my mind.

“We have time to discuss why I’m here and the implications later. Actually, I want us to work through some of them together.”

“Together?” I arch an eyebrow. “But I live here.”

He turns his gaze to the floor for a few seconds then back at me. “Well, I’m here too.”

“For how long?”

“I’m here for as long as you want me to be by your side.” He crosses his arms as if he’s stating the obvious.

His forehead furrows, those eyes remain focused on me. I study them as I wait for more, but the only thing that I see is a wicked smile and his gaze blazing with a lustful fire.

“Too bad this thing has a camera.” He points at the left corner. “The things we could do in here.”

He leans forward. That cocky smirk and playful gaze send my mind to another time when everything was different between us. My blood is boiling, and my core clenches as I remember the last time we were in an elevator together. My back against the metal door, my panties inside his suit, his hips between my thighs, and my legs holding his waist as he pumped furiously inside me. The heat of his skin melting every cell of my body.

A throaty moan escapes as I writhe with lust.

“Wait,” I sober up, pushing the longing back to the corner. “Is that why you came?”

“To have sex?” he asks, exhaling hard. “Nope. Our lovemaking is unique. Sex is incredible with you.”

He sobers up. “But as much as I miss you, that’s not what I have in mind.”

“I came because I need my teammate, my partner—and I bet you need me too,” he explains.

Those words envelop my heart, warming it and pushing the ache and anger away. Because above everything, I want him close.

“So, you’ll stay for as long as I need you?” I answer with a question of my own. “And we go back to the way we used to be—as friends?”

“No. This time, everything will be different, Bee.” He presses his lips tight, taking a big breath.

“Different?” I arch an eyebrow, and I sigh, frustrated by his answers.

“But what if I stay here forever? You have a life in New York.”

“I hate that you think this is where you belong.” He finally pushes the lobby button, not answering my question.

“But I guess life is about taking risks as we search for that special place,” he says, sounding like a fortune cookie from Ying Palace where we ordered takeout almost every Wednesday. They never make sense but taste yummy, and their quotes sound so beautiful.

“What place?” I glare at him.

“The place where we belong,” he answers. “So, we embark on this new adventure—together.”

I’m breathless as he uses we and belong in one sentence.

His neck bends as his hand lifts my chin carefully. “That’s what we do, Hazel. Every day, we challenge ourselves and work together to conquer our fears.”

I tilt my head, stepping aside to avoid his touch. My eyes move to the elevator doors as they open. He’s infuriating, yet he’s perfect. I hate that he knows what I want to hear but sometimes refuses to say those words. I hate he knows how to hurt me with words and that he uses them to keep himself behind the steel wall where his heart exists.

“You think I don’t get it. But I do,” Scott continues, his voice low and controlled. “I understand you better than you can imagine.”

Does he? Can he explain why my stomach is tied into a billion knots? The questions continue crashing against my head, and I don’t have any answers.

I won’t let the past define my decisions or dictate my future.