I saw the way Anais looked at me – on my shower floor, when I made love to her and at the Rothman party. There’s no doubt in my mind, she’s in love. I’m going to break her heart. But what choice do I have? We can’t be together, no matter what she believes.
Groaning, I run a palm down my face, desperate for a way to make this easier on her. Despite what she might think, I don’t want to hurt her. Truthfully, I care... too much. And that’s the problem. Christ, I dropped nearly a million dollars on a fucking panoramic elevator, just to make her feel better about riding to my floor. And then there’s the piece of jewelry I might have stopped a certain prick prince from buying,because I couldn’t stand the thought of him owning something he compared to her eyes…
God damn woman is costing me millions.
Because, though you are not willing to admit it, you love her.That small voice jolts me upright in my chair, heart pounding, alarm flooding me. I shake my head, ridding myself of the ridiculous notion. Fuck me, I really am losing my mind if that voice is telling me I’m in love. I need to sort my shit out before I slip into complete oblivion and do something stupid – like make Anais mine forever.
A knock on my door pulls me from my wayward thoughts. I call out, inviting whoever it is to enter… only to immediately regret it, when the source of my turmoil steps inside, a wide smile lighting up her beautiful face.
“Hey.”
Every muscle in my body locks down at the sound of her voice. And because I’m reminded of the effect she has on me, I can’t help the bite in my tone. “What can I do for you, Anais?”
She freezes on the spot, searching my eyes for something. She won’t find what she’s looking for. The blank mask I know she despises is strapped in place, preventing her from seeing the truth.
She chews her bottom lip. My cock stirs with interest, and I inwardly scold myself. When it comes to the woman in front of it, I have zero control. Ironic really. Before I allowed Anais into my life, I was known for restraint.
I stare at her, silently demanding she say the reason she’s here. Fire flashes in her eyes, her shoulders squaring as she prepares herself. “I was thinking… dinner tonight?” she asks it as a question but it’s not one.
“Is that a question?”
She shrugs, her gaze narrowing. “More of a suggestion. After the Rothman party I thought we could talk–”
I’m shaking my head before I can stop myself, cutting her off. “No.”
Her confidence falters, hurt creeping into her expression.
“No?” she asks incredulous.
“No.” I snap, making her jump. I inhale, trying to calm down. I’m on edge, and honestly, I can only blame myself, but Anais also needs to take some accountability. Had she not pushed, I wouldn’t be in this mess. “I don’t know what stupid idea you have in your head Anais, but we are not a couple. We’ve fucked – more than we probably should have–” I add, and she flinches, the pain on her face now plain as day. I’m an asshole of the worst kind. All I want is to go to her, wrap her in my arms, bury my head in the crook of her neck, and whisper words of comfort. But I can’t. This thing between us had to end at some point, and now is as good a time as any. No need to lead her on any more than I already have. My jaw clenches, wanting to erase the hurt, soften the blow. But what’s the point? I sigh. “Look, I’m having a boys’ night. No women allowed.” I add that last part for no reason. She knows what boys’ night means.
“Is this about my brother?” Her lips tremble and my chest cracks. Fuck. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“Yes,” I grate out. “He will never fucking accept us, Anais. Never. I fucked up.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair. “Christ, do you know what he’d do to me if he found out? I never should’ve crossed that line with you.”
“We can make it work.” She whispers similar words as she did a couple of nights ago, when she begged me to tell Harrison.
I point blank refused. Anais took it as me choosing my friendship with her brother over my relationship with her.
But we don’t have a relationship. Not really.
This has to be done.
“No.” My tone leaves no room for argument.
Her face twists, in anger or pain, I’m not sure. She closes the distance between us, slapping her palms on my desk. “You, Evan Maxwell, are an asshole,” she growls, trying to sound threatening but it comes across cute rather than anything else. Like an angry little kitten. “I know what you’re doing.” I raise a brow, smirking for her to continue. “You won’t tell my brother because you’re scared of your feelings for me and you’re pushing me away.” My smirk falters before I quickly recover. “But that’s okay, I’ll bemanenough for the both of us.”
“As fascinating as your evaluation is, I have things to do.” I drawl, dismissive, but it doesn’t stop her little meltdown.
Undeterred, her sharp gaze narrows. “Unlike you, I can admit how I feel.”
The room feels suffocating. I yank at the knot of my tie, desperate for air. “And how do you feel?”
I must be a fucking masochist to ask that question.
She smiles softly. A sharp tightness grips my chest. Instinctively, I reach up, rubbing the spot, hoping to soothe the ache. Fuck me. Am I having a heart attack?
“I love you, Evan,” she says simply, truthfully, and I jolt like I’ve been shocked. “Despite your asshole ways. I always have. Always will.”
