Another few seconds tick by.
“Yeah.”
I open the door to see a few fresh boxes scattered on his floor. Sensing the question on the tip of my tongue, Conner explains, “I’m going home for a while too.”
“New Hampshire?”
“Yeah. Seems like there isn’t much of a reason for me to stick around anymore.”
Sucking my lips between my teeth, I breathe a sigh. “I screwed up.”
“Ya think?”
“I’m sorry, man.” My fists clench at my sides as I register how pathetic that sounds. A simple apology isn’t going to fix shit, but I still need to try. “I was an ass, and it was completely my fault. You didn’t deserve the shit I put you through, and you definitely
didn’t deserve a fist to the face.”
With a sarcastic laugh, he shakes his head. “I may have kind of deserved that one.”
His admission threatens to make me smile, but I keep it at bay. I have too much I need to say right now. Clearing my throat, I press on. “I swear I didn’t have some master plan to steal Charlie away from you after you botched your presentation. I had no idea things were going to play out the way they did, but it’s no excuse. You got the short end of the stick, and that sure as hell wasn’t fair to you.”
The surprise on his face is clear as his eyes bulge. “You’re right. But you’re not the only one to blame. If I wanted the job, I should’ve fought harder for it. And if I wanted Charlie, I should’ve probably fought harder for her too.”
My mouth quirks. “Is it wrong to say I’m glad you didn’t?”
With a dark chuckle, he replies, “Ass.”
I join in, throwing my head back as I let out a laugh that seems to ease the tension in my chest. “I know, but at least I’m finally being honest now, right?”
“Do you need a gold star?” he asks, sarcastically.
I shrug. “Are you offering one?”
“No, but I do have a question.”
“What’s that?”
“Why’d you turn down the job?” he probes.
I have no idea how he knows I turned it down, but I don’t bother to ask. Hell, part of me feels like I deserve to be left in the dark for all the shit I pulled.
“I didn’t deserve it,” I answer simply.
“Yeah, you did.”
“I didn’t feel like it,” I admit. “Hell, I still don’t feel like it.”
“Levi, take the job. And take the girl.”
I don’t know how to tell him that I’ve already accepted both with my greedy hands. I’m a selfish bastard and couldn’t let either of them slip through my fingers a second time.
Sensing my hesitancy, he says, “You already have, haven’t you?”
“I’m sorry—”
“It’s all good,” he counters. “I mean it, Levi. You really do deserve them, and I don’t mean that in an asshole way. Hell, part of me feels like I was trying to step into your shoes. It wasn’t right, and I don’t think it was what I really wanted, either.”
“Still,” I argue. “I feel like shit.”