From the Inside Out: The Compilation (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, Austin) by S. L. Scott Read Free Book Online

“I’m just, well, you know, this is unexpected. You visiting me.” I glance at one of the chairs in front of his desk. Noticing, he offers, “Come in. Have a seat.”
    I cross the first five steps of the beige office, analyzing all he’s become since our break-up. Apparently he’s a big deal around here, judging by the corner office. Maybe the years haven’t been as hard as I had wished on him.
    I watch him sit back, his hands bracing himself to the arms of the chair. Inwardly, I enjoy that his mind must be going crazy with assumptions as to why I’m visiting him at work.
    Detouring to the window, I take a deep breath as the silence lengthens between us, making him more uncomfortable. I can feel his nervous energy from here, it’s palpable. Dylan is nothing like he was the other night, the false calm and bravado not crutched by alcohol.
    “Jules?” he says, breaking the silence by speaking my name.
    “You surprised me at my work, so I’m returning the favor,” I reply, turning around and leaning my back against the window sill. I try to maintain control of the situation, pretending I’m comfortable being like this with him again.
    “I didn’t know you worked at that gallery,” he justifies, and I actually believe him. He seemed surprised, but held it together. “I’m sorry if you felt intruded upon.”
    “No, it’s not that.” I owe him nothing, so I stop there. I scan his office for photos and see two frames, one on the low console behind him. His parents—happy, all smiles, arms around each other’s shoulders. Picture perfect. I miss them. I wonder if he knows that his mother still emails me.
    The other frame is smaller and facing away from me. I want to see it, to know who it is, to see the person that has found a place of honor on his desk, but I can’t and I won’t snoop. I’m not the least concerned about coming off as polite. It’s not that at all. It’s that in that moment, in this room filled with old, wilting, mixed-up feelings, I’m scared to know the truth about the man Dylan Somers has become. I’m afraid of finding out I was forgotten the same day he left. That would hurt me in new ways and change the memories that were good between us.
    Why I decided to torture myself this way, I’ll never know. I have nothing to prove to him, so I head for the door without another word. His footsteps are heavy on the carpeted floor behind me. “Jules, wait.”
    I don’t wait and he stops shy of the double doors that separate the reception desk from the offices of importance that lie beyond where we came from. The desk is still abandoned by an employee taking their lunch break, an employee that is the gatekeeper for Dylan. The employee that I never encountered due to off-timing in his or her schedule, the one who would normally keep people like me from visiting.
    The elevator button is pressed as the glass door shuts quietly behind me. Stepping inside, I push L, then secure myself in the back corner hoping for a non-stop descent. I’m not that lucky. The elevator doors slide open one floor down.
    “Jules?”
    “Hello.” I smile, pleasantly surprised. Maybe my luck is changing.

 
     
     
    AUSTIN BARKER, ONE of my top art buyers, steps into the elevator with me, double checking that the lobby button is highlighted. When he turns back to me, he smiles as if disbelieving his own eyes. A thrill resides there when he looks at me, making my stomach clench in the best of ways. “This is a nice surprise,” he says, his smooth but deep voice shooting straight for my heart.
    He’s not the aggressive type and has proven his patience with me through the years. I’ve always found him quite charming, and surprised he stayed single. Dark hair highlights his handsome face with his straight nose leading to full lips. His sharp jaw and green eyes are not to be discounted. From the side, I see he’s got a small bump at the bridge of his nose that’s barely noticeable, but I notice, and I really like