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“No, not everything. But I’m analyzing this.”
“You need to let it go.”
“You think we can ignore it?”
“Yeah, that’s what I think.”
“Tell me you’re not interested and I won’t mention it again.” She dropped the words into a pulsing, thickened silence.
She had him trapped, squirming like a fish on a hook.
“I’m not interested. Look, we were two people trapped in an elevator—you were stressed, I comforted you and it turned into more than I planned. I’d had a glass of champagne, you were there all cute and vulnerable, your mouth was all red and kissable. But it was just a kiss. It happens.” He hoped she’d leave it at that, but of course she didn’t.
“It wasn’t just a kiss. It was—” she’d lost a little of her confidence, seemed puzzled “—more. It was more, Jake. I felt it. It was different.”
“No it wasn’t. I kiss like that all the time.” He stripped the emotion out of his voice. “That kiss felt the same as all the others.” He shot the arrow straight through her heart.
The hurt pulsed from her and right at that moment he truly hated himself.
Why the hell had he taken the elevator with her?
“So you’re saying you kissed me because I was there. Because I happened to have a mouth, and I was wearing red lipstick.” Her voice was monotone. “That’s all it was?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him for a moment and then picked one of the smiles from her collection. She had several that he knew of. There was the “I’m fine” smile. The “I’m not in pain” smile and the “I don’t care” smile.
This was a combination of all three. Matt would have called it her Brave Face.
“Right—well, I appreciate your honesty.” She straightened her shoulders. “Sorry to disturb you. If you have any questions about the venue, let me know. Otherwise Urban Genie will carry on with the planning.”
“I don’t have questions.” Except for wondering why he’d agreed to this. “Do your thing.”
As long as she did her thing well away from him, they might even survive this.
CHAPTER TEN
Men are like lipstick; you have to try a few before you find the perfect one.
—Paige
“SO HOW’S BUSINESS?” Jake was sprawled on the sofa in Matt’s man cave killing zombies on the Xbox while they waited for the rest of their friends to arrive for a game of pool. “Busy?”
“Yeah. Did you drink all the beer from my fridge? I could have sworn it was full last week.”
“It was. Then we had poker night. You’re forgetting.”
“I’m not forgetting. I lost more than beer that night.” Matt gave a grunt and stood up. “If you empty the damn fridge, you should fill it up, especially as you walked away with half my money last time.”
It was an easy exchange. One they’d had a hundred times before.
“I seem to recall emptying your fridge was a joint project, and as I filled it up in the first place you can’t complain. And I’m empty-handed this time because I came on the bike. I can go to the restaurant if you like and raid supplies.”
“You’d steal from your own mother? You have no conscience.”
Given that his conscience was the only thing holding Jake back from screwing Paige, the accusation made him irritable. “Do you want beer or not?”
“Well, aren’t you in a sunny mood?” Matt studied him. “Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather have a tantrum by yourself?”
