บท 8: More or Less

"What, you think you'll get a gold medal from Matthew for your gate-keeping?"

"No, but don't forget you declined when I offered it fifteen minutes ago, saying you didn't need it."

For the record, I still don't. And since when was he a walking time clock? He—who had never been on time for anything in the four years she'd known him. Savannah had stubbed her toe a few times, rushing to make meetings early, only for them to get delayed by Mr Laid back himself. Sometimes by half an hour. Sometimes longer. Now, he could casually tell the time off his fingertips?

Savannah exhaled sharply and straightened her blouse as if tucking in her annoyance. She sat back down, levelling him with her eyes. "Look, let's keep it adult, all right?"

Ryan nodded. "Strictly R-18. I agree."

"The blueprint," Savannah said with a drawl. "I'm not here to take it, okay? I just need a second look. That's it."

He'd heard her loud and clear, right?—he had to have, considering how she could still hear her pathetic-sounding voice ringing in her own ears. So why wasn't he doing anything? He just sat there, mute as a mule, eyes distant like he was lost in thought. Was he faking it, too, like he'd faked the whole proposal stunt from yesterday?

Savannah stifled a huff. If she hadn't regretted showing up here before, she sure as hell did now. His silence was mean, coldly shutting her off as the minutes dragged on. Did he not get the dire situation she was in, or was he not interested after all? Time was slipping away fast. And with barely ten minutes from ten o'clock, Savannah could feel the pressure mounting up in her chest, squeezing tightly at her lungs—two seconds to go until she was ultimately out of breath.

Sure, she'd turned him down before. So what? What was his problem now? Hadn't he wanted to help her then, letting her have it without a second thought? Or had that been some useless feat to rile her up for his enjoyment like he was now? She hadn't even stormed into his office demanding that she saw it—hell, she'd practically come begging. She'd let her pride jump headfirst out the window the instant she walked in. Wasn't that enough for him?

She caught it just as she opened her mouth to say something more: a half-smile that disappeared almost immediately, but it was there. She'd seen it. Of all the worst possible ways he could have aggravated things between them, he had to smile at that exact moment. A smile that showed just how much he thought she was beneath him.

"You know what? Forget I even asked."

Savannah shot up to her feet, ignoring the bleak surprise in his ocean blues as she turned to leave.

"Moretti, wait—"

His hand caught her before his voice even reached her ears. At first, his grip was too tight, almost painful. She flinched, and as if realizing, he softened his hold until his touch felt almost intimate. What made it worse was the trance-like stare they were locked in, their eyes holding for longer than a half-minute.

When his thumb lightly brushed the inside of her palm, it awakened something within, prompting her to snatch back her hand. "Don't touch me," she said, her voice strained from fighting off the intensity of the heat blasting up her insides.

"Fine. I won't," Ryan said with a dramatic raise of his hand. "But you don't have to storm out like you were about to."

Wow, seriously? What was she supposed to do then? Applaud him for so kindly wasting her time? How about throwing him a kiss or two to show the extent of her appreciation? Was that what he expected of her? Savannah snorted heavily. What a joke.

"Why the sudden interest in my draft anyway?" Ryan asked coolly. "I thought yours was already in process? Your words, not mine."

Now that much she couldn't answer. Savannah shifted her weight from one leg to the other, fiddling with her nails behind her back.

"Look, Ryan," she said eventually. "I'm so not in the mood for any of your games. It's obvious I made a mistake coming here."

Because did he not know not to engage her like that? He didn't know when to read the room? Savannah turned again to leave, but, of course, Ryan caught her hand. Her razor-sharp glare, thrown over her shoulder, made him retreat.

"I honestly don't get why you're upset," Ryan said, easily tucking both hands in his pockets. "All I did was ask a simple question—one you seem to be clearly avoiding."

"And why would you think I'd avoid answering that?"

"I don't know. Just because," Ryan said, slipping his hands deeper into his pockets. "Maybe you could prove me wrong."

"I have nothing to prove to you!"

Ryan fell back by a step, visibly overtaken by her reaction. "Why are you this upset right now?" he asked. "It can't be because I wouldn't give you my drafted notes. I don't think so."

"You don't say, Ryan?" She paused, then barked out a laugh that resembled a snarl, more or less. "You want to know why I'm mad? It's because of you, Ryan. I'm mad at you for treating me like I'm not even worthy to breathe the same air as you, like I'm nothing. Worthless. A blockhead!" She groaned, her growing frustration threatening to boil over. "The things you do... they make me want to—"

She cut herself off; she was too angry. The brief pause, however, did nothing to calm her nerves. With a strangled voice, she said, "Some days, I want to grab that pea-sized head of yours and squash it until it pops. That's how mad you make me, Ryan. Every. Single. Day."

The deep belly laugh that followed was the least reaction she'd expected from him, mainly because it made light of her annoyance in a way she didn't like. "What's so funny?"

"Everything you just said," Ryan said, barely containing his laughter. "What did I ever do to make you feel those things? I don't recall doing any of what you just described."

"Ryan, for the love of God! Would you—know what?—never mind. Never mind any of what I said to you," she said, quickly catching herself. It was clear that he was enjoying this way more than she was. And that sucked—a whole galaxy of sucks. Savannah bit down hard on her lip, fighting back the swelling dam behind her eyes, which would burst otherwise.

Ryan stopped laughing. "Fine. Since you won't answer my question, I'll go first.

"I offered to help because you were about two seconds away from slamming your head against your office desk when I peeked at you. I could smell your frustration a mile away. Your turn."

"And how did that make you feel doing that?"

"Pardon?"

"I said, how did that make you feel, Ryan?"

She truly was on the verge of crying now. The way he'd described seeing her made her feel like absolute shit.

"Did it feel good watching me in that state?" Her voice shook with all the emotions she could not rein in any longer. "How was the view? Did you enjoy it?"

"Woah. Slow down." Ryan stepped back slightly. "I think you're taking this a bit too far."

"Too far? Really…?" Her voice shook even more than it did before. "You describe what it feels like to stalk me, but when I react honestly, I'm the one going too far?"

Her chest tightened and the urge to break down became more unbearable. She couldn't stay on for much longer. That wouldn't be good for everyone involved.

At that moment, Ryan moved toward her like he might reach out, but Savannah was quicker. She caught on fast and pushed back. "Stay away from me, Ryan. I mean it. Don't you ever come close to me!"