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Lexi rolls her gorgeous eyes and my heart beats erratically. “Wine,” she groans.

“Wine? How did you spill wine in your hair?”

“I didn’t.”

Pulling back so I can see her entire face, I raise my eyebrows in question. “If you didn’t spill it, how did it get here?” Without thinking, my index finger traces a red line down her neck.

“Freaking Maxim Savin threw it at me when I told him to stop manhandling the girl he was with. I think her name was Pacen?”

I didn’t hear her correctly.

“What did you say?”

Lexi tries to step away from me, but my grip tightens in her hair. When I see a hint of fear in her eyes, I release her, but don’t allow her to step away.

“I’ll never hurt you, Lexi.”

“You’re right,” she fires back.

“Tell me what happened. Please,” I whisper.

“I did. Fuckwad Maxim threw his drink in my face.”

I was angry when I saw Dillon holding her hand. I was pissed off when Pacen reminded me of her sister. But, enraged doesn’t even begin to explain my feelings as she recounts the messed up situation I abandoned her to.

It takes almost forty minutes for her to tell me every detail because I make her repeat it at least six times. By the time she’s finished, I watch the exhaustion hit her like a freight train. I did this to her. I was so absorbed in my own pain that I didn’t think about her.My father raised me better than this.

“Lex, I’m … I’m so sorry. None of this should have ever happened.”

“We all have stories that come to bite us in the ass sometimes, East. Just be thankful you had a friend in your corner when yours came calling.”

Her admission momentarily stuns me. Searching her face, I ask, “Is that what we are, Lexi? Friends?”

“Well, there are many ways to label us, East. You’re my boss. Our families are what? Family?”

“We’re family adjacent,” I grind out. I’m not sure why calling Lexi family rankles me so much, but it does. “We coined the term when mom started taking in strays.” A genuine smile pulls at my lips “But I think I might like friends better.”

Friends will never be enough with this girl.

Holy shit. Where the hell did that thought come from?

“I can handle friends, but I really need a shower. Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Lexi, you got assaulted. Why are you asking if I’m okay?”

“That’s not assault, East. I’ve experienced assault. That was a child throwing a temper tantrum. And, I’m asking if you’re okay because your story just came out of left field and hit you with a grand slam.”

This isn’t the first time she’s used a sports metaphor, but fuck me if I don’t love that she uses them correctly.

“I’m okay, Lex. Thank you. Go shower, and I’ll order us some dinner.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m really not hungry.”

I eye her in the now ruined sexy fucking dress, and I want to ask if she’s always been this thin, but I also know her well enough to know that might end in a slap across the face. So I make a mental note to ask Lanie.

“I’ll order extra in case you change your mind?”

She smiles and walks to her room as a thought hits me.