Page 37 of Take Me I'm Yours


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And…

Don’t date him, butterfly. Date me.

Fuck. I’m so fucked.

I down the last half of my champagne in one long swallow, set the empty glass on the edge of the mocktail bar, and quickly move toward the guard manning the exit on this side of the ballroom.

He lifts his chin as I approach. “Hello, sir. Just want to let you know there’s no reentry through this door. If you want to come back inside, you’ll have to go around to the main entrance and show your invite to a staff member again.”

I nod. “Thanks, but I won’t be coming back. I’ve had enough.”

He looks surprised, but nods and presses the bar on the metal door, revealing the alley behind the hotel. “Have a good night, sir. The best place to catch a cab this time of night is over on Avenue C.”

I thank him and head out into the warm September evening, but I have no intention of calling a cab. A brisk walk to Union Square will ensure Smith has ample time to deliver my bags and donuts and head home to his wife. I don’t want to risk arriving while he’s still there and having to answer uncomfortable questions about why I left the party after less than half an hour.

I’m nearly to the end of the surprisingly clean alley, when a woman’s voice calls out behind me, “Gideon, wait!”

Time slows and my heart lurches in my chest.

I know that voice. I would know it anywhere, even if I hadn’t heard it in years.

Looks like I haven’t managed to escape without being noticed, after all. Now, I’m going to have to answer some very hard questions. Or come up with some very quick, very slick lies.

But as I turn to see Sydney walking toward me, looking like something out of a movie in her vintage dress and makeup that brings out every perfect curve of her face, I know I could never lie to her. She’s too good, too kind.

And too obviously happy to see me.

She smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out from behind a cloud and a knife stabbed deep in my heart at the same time. Because this is it. This is the end, no matter how much I wish it could be something more.

She slows as she gets closer, her smile fading. “Hey.” She crosses her arms, making the hint of cleavage at the top of the dress even sexier. The woman is stunning, even in sweatpants. In a dress that skims her curves and shows off the elegant lines of her body, she’s a cardiac event waiting to happen. “Leaving so early?”

I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah. It isn’t really my scene.”

“Mine, either,” she says. “I’m here with friends.”

Friends. My brain latches on to the word with almost pathetic excitement. Maybe Adrian and Sydney are just friends.

Friends who kiss and touch each other a lot in public…

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “If you have a previous engagement.”

She frowns. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, but can’t force the word—“nothing”—from my lips. That would be a lie, and I’ve already realized I can’t lie to her.

She steps closer, studying my expression. “I saw you in there. You couldn’t get out of the party fast enough. Did something happen?”

I saw my son kissing you and almost lost my goddamned mind. Then I tried to talk to Adrian and realized I’m a failure as a father and it might be too late to keep my kid from growing up to be a real prick.

Aloud, I say, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” she asks, her gaze softening. “You seem like the type who can talk about anything. If you’re in the right company.” She waits, continuing to search my face in the loaded silence before adding in a softer voice, “But if I’m not the right company…”

“You’re the best company,” I say, the words out before I can stop them. “The past month, I… All I’ve wanted to do was talk to you.”

She arches a brow, heat and shyness mixing in her gaze. “Really? All you wanted to do was talk?”

Damn…

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