Free Roll Against Discovery (3d20 Book 3) by Allyson Lindt

him was nothing, ignoring him and walking away, or telling him at least a little of what was on my mind. The last option terrified me, but it was the only one I could choose.
    “Kitten.” The nickname sliced into my soul, sharper than any blade. His smile didn’t quite form. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.”
    “Leaving already?” That was weak. And really obvious. The gears of my mind refused to turn, though.
    “Should have left yesterday.” He stepped closer, moving out of people’s way. His familiar scent, sharp and clean, threatened my grasp on composure. How could I have such a strong reaction to someone I barely knew? He raised a hand, as if to reach for me, then let it drop limply back by his side. “I don’t know what Trevor told you.”
    “Nothing. Not really. That he had to leave early for work, and goodbye.”
    Evan’s laugh was clipped. “Sounds like him. You deserve a little more.” His shoulders rose and fell when he sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled. “Look, I know we told you we’ve done this before, but you were different.”
    I tried not to read too much into the words, but they already buoyed hope inside. “I feel the same about both of you. I mean that you’re different. You already know this was new for me.”
    His expression wilted. “That’s part of the problem. We know this doesn’t go past this hotel.” He furrowed his brow. “It won’t. It can’t.”
    And like that, my mood shattered. I swallowed hard, but couldn’t rid myself of the lump in my throat. “Of course.”
    “The thing is”—he clenched and unclenched his fist—“if you tell yourself it’s because this was never meant to be more, if you believe our original intentions are the only reason it’s ending, you’re doing yourself and the memory a disservice. If you’d prefer, it’s not you. It’s us. Trevor has been my best friend forever. So long, I barely remember how we met. I like you. I can’t speak for him, but it’s a fair bet he feels the same. And maybe one of us would click with you, and maybe the other would be happy being a third wheel, or maybe we’d date and it wouldn’t work out, and all this over-analyzing would be for nothing. Lots of maybes.”
    I struggled to process his words without letting my frustration show. My voice wouldn’t work, and unshed tears stung my eyes.
    “The only not-maybe , the only sure thing, is I can’t lose Trevor. I’m sorry, Kitten. That’s what it comes down to.”
    They fought over me. It made sense the moment I thought it. I’d known it in the back of my mind, but the same part of me that locked the realization away still denied it was possible, despite the proof I just heard. I forced myself to sound something other than completely bummed out. “I get it. It’s okay.” It wasn’t. Not really. But I didn’t want to come between them. “See you around.” I stepped back. “Or not. You know. Whatever.” I spun and ducked my head, ignoring anything else Evan had to say. I kept my pace normal as I walked back toward the elevator, despite the prickle in my throat and the burn in my eyes. Why did this hurt so much?
     
    ****
     
    I was never one of those people who hated Mondays. Work paid the bills, and I didn’t mind my job. But two weeks after the convention, my third Monday back in the office, I sat at my desk, staring at my call stats and waiting for the next person to ring through. I wanted to be anywhere else. Or maybe I simply wanted to be at the one place I couldn’t. I refused to let myself think their names.
    At least I was second-tier support, so I only had to answer questions from other technicians. And we supported networking hardware for large corporations, so most of the people calling in were experienced and professional. I might not be as patient as needed with end-users. I’d already snapped at one tech, when he asked me the same question he called with every other