Foreman narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what Amber's sarcasm meant. It seemed brittle, like she was hiding behind it. He had to admit, he felt a clench of discomfort at the idea of what personal gossip she might have shared around as if it was a bargaining chip. His life wasn't part of a poker hand, to be judged and discarded as part of some 'master plan'. His instinctive reaction certainly wasn't positive. But it still wasn't the deep, twisting aversion that he'd thought he'd have, either. The kind of embarrassment that he felt when Amber waived good manners in public just to get a better seat or a better bottle of wine. Amber obviously knew what she was doing, knew what she was working towards, and she was pleased that she'd succeeded.
It helped, too, that she'd thought he'd be angry. If that was why she'd asked to talk with him, then Foreman could understand a bit better. She'd acted against what they'd agreed on, deliberately; she could have hurt him. But she knew it, too. Her cool silence when he'd approached her could have been the way she'd show herself worried about his reaction. "I'm not," he said quietly, trying to work through what he was feeling. He matched Amber's step, getting closer, still not certain enough--of her or of himself--to reach out and touch her. "But I don't want...how I am with you...to get used against you in the same way." And, to be fully honest: "Or against me. You're playing with them like they don't matter, but--" He hesitated, his heart leaping up to block his throat for what felt like too long. Chase had said he should be direct. God, he couldn't possibly be taking romantic advice from Chase. On the other hand, he was also repeating what he'd said in the car, at least nearly: that he didn't really approve, but that he wouldn't stop her. Not when it didn't involve him. "But I want to matter to you. I don't want to be a game piece."
He sighed, his gaze softening. Amber's voice was almost meek, despite her proud posture. Foreman could see more of her now, including the times when she was trying to hide from him and it wasn't fully working. He had no doubt that there were a million things he was missing about what she'd thought, or attempted, or felt, but it seemed clear to him now that she was uncertain. Just like he'd been, coming in here. "Yeah. We will." She'd gotten nearer to him, and Foreman, at last, couldn't help but take that for an invitation. He closed the space between them, enough to wrap his arms around her waist. Cautious, but comforting, waiting for her signal to go farther and use his strength to pull her into a deeper hug.
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It helped, too, that she'd thought he'd be angry. If that was why she'd asked to talk with him, then Foreman could understand a bit better. She'd acted against what they'd agreed on, deliberately; she could have hurt him. But she knew it, too. Her cool silence when he'd approached her could have been the way she'd show herself worried about his reaction. "I'm not," he said quietly, trying to work through what he was feeling. He matched Amber's step, getting closer, still not certain enough--of her or of himself--to reach out and touch her. "But I don't want...how I am with you...to get used against you in the same way." And, to be fully honest: "Or against me. You're playing with them like they don't matter, but--" He hesitated, his heart leaping up to block his throat for what felt like too long. Chase had said he should be direct. God, he couldn't possibly be taking romantic advice from Chase. On the other hand, he was also repeating what he'd said in the car, at least nearly: that he didn't really approve, but that he wouldn't stop her. Not when it didn't involve him. "But I want to matter to you. I don't want to be a game piece."
He sighed, his gaze softening. Amber's voice was almost meek, despite her proud posture. Foreman could see more of her now, including the times when she was trying to hide from him and it wasn't fully working. He had no doubt that there were a million things he was missing about what she'd thought, or attempted, or felt, but it seemed clear to him now that she was uncertain. Just like he'd been, coming in here. "Yeah. We will." She'd gotten nearer to him, and Foreman, at last, couldn't help but take that for an invitation. He closed the space between them, enough to wrap his arms around her waist. Cautious, but comforting, waiting for her signal to go farther and use his strength to pull her into a deeper hug.