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“Maybe in your world, but not in mine.” She sighed. “So what happened with her, the special girl?”
I picked up my water bottle and walked out.
She followed me. “Hey. We had a deal.” I hadn’t made it to my room before she threw down the gauntlet. “Are you chicken?”
Nobody calls me chicken.I gritted my teeth and walked the remaining steps to my door.
“I knew it. You’re too chicken to tell me. Honesty only flows one way with you, doesn’t it?”
I reached for the handle. “She got pregnant.”
Her face dropped. “Oh.”
“But not by me.” The pain of that day washed over me again. I’d been betrayed. “Satisfied?” I’d learned the hard way about letting people get close. That was not the kind of experience I ever wished to repeat.
The look on Alexa’s face moved from shock to pity. That was exactly what I didn’t need. I pushed through the door and closed it behind me.
“I’m here to talk if you want to,” she said through the door.
I went into the bathroom and leaned against the counter. There were a lot of things I wanted to do with Alexa, to Alexa, and none of them involved talking.
Talking couldn’t fix what had happened. But the other things on my mind wouldn’t repair the damage either, and any temporary comfort with Alexa could lead to an even more hurtful ending.
And it would end. It had to end. As she’d reminded me numerous times, she hated me, and she was only doing this for the money. “For the children,” as she put it.
She might not hate me enough to prevent a kiss, or a passionate night, or maybe more, but in the fullness of time, history would poison her against me. Her father would see to that.
My body and my mind were at war. Our almost-kiss had proved that. I wanted her, desired her, but knew that giving in would lead to heartache and a million I-told-you-sos from my conscience.
Her declaration to the photographer that she’d moved in with me had fixed the immediate issue of her facial bruising. But avoiding additional emotional bruises was going to require more will power than I’d expected to need when I offered to shelter her for a few days.
The only thing clear about this was that my hand and my dick were going become even better acquainted if I wanted any chance of keeping her at a distance.
CHAPTER22
Alexa
Evan closed his door,and I retreated to my room to shower and change. I had enough work to keep me busy on my computer for the rest of the weekend. After the episode with Camera Jackal, I wasn’t in a hurry to go out in public again while I was looking the way I did.
The shower efficiently rinsed the sweat off me, but it did a shit-poor job on the guilt I felt. I’d badgered Evan into revealing a hurtful piece of his history that he hadn’t been ready to disclose yet, or maybe ever. All because I insisted on pushing his buttons and didn’t know when to back the fuck off.
His girlfriend had gotten pregnant by another man. And not just any girlfriend, but the first and only he’d referred to ashis girl—obviously a very special one. That had to have fucked him up good.
I was the bad person here, the one with zero compassion. The man freaking saved my life yesterday, and I’d repaid him by being the worst possible guest in his house. Good thing we were faking it, because I was doing a terrible job with this girlfriend thing.This has to change. I have to change.
* * *
Early in the afternoon,I looked out over the park and wondered how I’d gotten so lucky. Here I was, outside on Evan’s terrace, working on my laptop above the bustle of the street with this magnificent view. Before I could finish another page, my phone came to life.
EVAN: What kind of sandwich would you like for lunch?
I hadn’t seen him since pissing him off this morning. As a matter of fact, I was working outside specifically to avoid him. I typed my reply.
ME: I think pizza would be
Feeling self-conscious about his complaint that I always argued with him, I deleted the contrarian partial message. I really had to stop that.
ME: Roast beef and cheddar on sourdough, if they have it, with extra horseradish
