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“Fine,” I ground out, and turned my attention back to the door. I clenched my jaw so tightly, it felt like my teeth were going to crack. “Excuse me.”
As I strode toward the door, I caught the two men giving each other a what the fuck look, but I chose to ignore it. I had bigger shit to deal with right now–like figuring out why Danica was acting like this. This wasn’t like her.
“Where’s Danica?” I barked when I saw Monica. She jolted and snapped her head up.
“Dani?”
“Yes,” I huffed. “Where is she?”
“I think she’s in the kitchen,” she said slowly. “Is everything okay, Aiden?” She put her hand on my forearm and batted her lashes as she stepped toward me. I grimaced.
“Get back to work.” I extracted my arm from her hold, ignoring her glare as I moved past her, down the narrow aisle of cubicles toward the kitchen. I stopped when I heard her voice.
“So, it’s true then?” she asked. My brows bunched tightly together as I silently moved closer to the semi-open kitchen door.
“I mean…” That was Sadie’s voice. I strained my ears to hear their hushed conversation. “We all have pasts, Dani.” Who were they talking about?
“Yeah,” Danica sighed. “I just wish his past didn’t involve sleeping with women he worked with.” My heart plummeted. Me. They were talking about me.
Turning, I strode back to my office, my heart lodged in my throat. My hands shook as I shut and locked the door. I pinched between my eyes, feeling a headache forming. How the fuck had she even found out about that? About her?
Someone knocked at the door, and I sighed as I moved to it, anticipating her. I hesitated before I slowly pulled it open. She stared at her notebook, not looking up at me like I so desperately wanted her to.
“Trey and David are still in the conference room,” she said, her voice small. “They said you left.” Finally, she lifted her eyes to mine, and the look in them gutted me. They were red, her dark lashes damp, her cheeks rosy.
“Danica, talk to me,” I rasped. She let out a long breath as she dropped her eyes again.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered. I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat.
“What?” I asked. “We can talk after work if you’d rather–”
“No.” She shook her head and took another long breath. “This.” She waved her hand between us.
“Us?” I asked, and she nodded. “Why?”
“It’ll be a mistake,” she muttered. She tried to step away, but I grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Does it feel like a mistake?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Because I don’t think it feels like a mistake.” She opened her mouth, then closed it.
“You slept with Monica,” she said. My eyes widened, then I dropped my hand from her arm. I stepped back into my office, expecting her to follow, but she didn’t. We stared at each other, my chest heaving and heart pounding.
“Who told you that?” I finally said. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “It matters. I need to know who the fuck told you that.”
“She did.” She stared at me head on, not backing down. “She told me, Aiden. She said you have a history of sleeping with women you work with, that you used her, and after you fucked her, you dropped her.”
“Get in here,” I growled.
“No.”
“We’ll talk about this privately–”
“Why?” she snapped, tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t want others to hear what you’ve done?”
“Danica.” It was a reprimand, a demand, a plea, all wrapped in one word. “I’d rather not fight with you where the entire office can hear. So, please. Come in here. Now.” Her jaw tensed, but she stepped inside and shut the door, then leaned her back against it.
