Another shaky laugh. The haunted torment in it twisted her gut.
He’s going to say no. This is the end, Bria. He’s ending it.
His eyes found hers again. “I think it’s probably better if I don’t.”
A cold shiver rippled through her, but she didn’t move. Didn’t break eye-contact. “For who?”
“You.”
“I don’t have a say in this?”
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. She could see it in his face. She didn’t understand it, but he’d made the call.
She frowned. “You’re throwing away the chance of something incredible. You know that, right?”
“I saw—” He stopped, looking away as he scrubbed a hand over his mouth and up the back of his neck.
“Saw what?”
He sighed and turned back to her. “You’re amazing, Bria. The best thing that’s ever come into my life. I’ll never forget you.”
“That’s it? We’re done?”
“It was only ever meant to be a hookup, remember?” he said with a small smile and took a step back. “Take care of yourself.”
He closed the door between them.
She stood motionless, staring at it. Waiting for him to open it. To say he was kidding. To say he wasn’t scared. To let her tell him she wasn’t scared either.
The door didn’t open.
In her gut, she knew it wouldn’t.
It was only ever meant to be a hookup, remember? Her own voice whispered in her head. He’s right. Are you really insane enough to want to pursue a relationship with someone you’ve just met, someone who might have brain cancer?
Throat thick, she turned from Tilly’s door and headed for the elevator.
She was, in fact, that insane. Pursing a relationship with him, brain-cancer or not, was exactly what she wanted.
But it seemed the math teacher had cut her out of the equation.
She ground her teeth and hurried away, refusing to look back.
So much for him being good with numbers.
Clearly, he didn’t know two was better than one.