Arlo John (boyxboy)

Chapter 14

There isn't a plausible explanation that exists that would begin to excuse the way I reacted to the words Dakota spoke moments before I returned to my desk. His apology and confession came much too late for my heart and mind to feel anything about them, and yet, both did. As I thought about it, I decided it was because I spent our relationship truly wondering if he shared the same feelings I did and now that he properly expressed himself, I heard the answers I always wanted to. But again, it was much too late.

For the next hour, I kept trying to convince myself of that fact and to forget everything he had said to me when it was clearly a last-ditch effort to keep me at JC. Perhaps he didn't mean anything he said at all and hoped his lies would spur about some resolve within me to stay. But Dakota never fails to prove himself a fool.

My thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing and it startles me. I slowly reach out, preparing myself to speak to my boss in assumption he's called to "spew nonsense" as I had, but when I answer, a different voice replies in a jolly tone.

"AJ," he says. "How are ya?"

"Good?" I say, my reply coming out as a question rather than an answer.

He laughs. "It's Emmett. Dakota sent me the transfer request."

Already?

"He did?" I ask.

"You sound surprised," he replies.

"No," I say. "I thought the process would take a little longer."

"Ah," Emmett says. "Well, the only thing left is your signature and then you'll be on your way over."

"Sweet," I say, though my mind contradicts itself.

"Let me know when you sign the documents and send them over," he says. "Then I'll explain the rest of the process but it shouldn't take long."

"Alright," I say. "Thanks."

"Mhm," Emmett says. "Welcome aboard."

———

I didn't sign the paperwork that day. Or the next day. Or the next day after that.

I'm a bigger idiot than Dakota.

It's been three days since Emmett sent over the documents, but my hand hasn't moved a single inch toward them.

I stare blankly at my computer screen, reading emails, but not processing their contents, when a large hand plops down on the transfer papers. It almost makes me jump.

"Are you ready for me to send these over?" Dakota asks, his proximity causing a wave of embarrassment to wash over me.

"Uh," I begin, the smell of his cologne filling the air. "I haven't signed them yet."

Dakota removes his hand and reads the date atop the front page from when it arrived.

"How long does it take one to sign a paper?" Dakota asks, peering down at me.

I remove my gaze from his. "Three days."

"So it seems," he replies. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No," I say, reaching for the papers and quickly grabbing a pen. I flip to the last page and finally bring the pen down to the box for my signature when Dakota places his hand down over it once more.