–Noah: I thought you hated her.
My irritation flares at the reminder. I know I hate her, and I reacted uncharacteristically, like I did two years ago in the rain. But seeing her get abused snapped something inside. The way she makes my protective instinct go overboard is perplexing and unsettling. Still, I felt what I felt—period.
–Me: Yes, but just because I hate her doesn’t mean he gets to touch what’s mine.
–Grant: What’s mine, huh?
–Emmett: Did you rip your shirt and pound your chest, too?
–Me: Fuck you.
–Sebastian: Did you break anything when you hit Nelson?
–Me: No. I didn’t actually hit him, per se.
–Nicholas: What did you do?
–Me: Kind of made his face collide with a wall a couple of times.
–Noah: That’s all?
–Noah: Told you Huxley hated her.
–Me: Shut up, Noah.
That asshole is trying to get me to admit something I’d rather not. He’s probably trying to get revenge for how I made fun of him for his inability to get croissants from his baker babe.
–Sebastian: When Karl hit Luce, I broke his ribs.
Competitive, as usual. I narrow my eyes.
–Me: It was Griff’s kick that did it.
–Noah: If Hux wanted to break Nelson in half, he could do it pretty easily. But he didn’t. Like I said, he hates her. Doesn’t care that much.
Noah’s wrong. My eyes slide to Grace, and I flex my hand around the phone. I caretoodamn much, and that’s the problem.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Grace
The quiet sound of running water tickles my ears. I pull the sheets over my head, shifting. The bedding is incredibly soft, better than what you might find in a luxury hotel.
What…?
I don’t have anything this nice in my bedroom. The temperature is slightly cooler than I’d like, too. And the bed smells like…Huxley?
I jackknife up, blinking hard in the dimly lit room.What the hell?I don’t remember entering his home. The last thing I recall is our making a pact to be nice to each other.
I look down at myself. I’m in a long pink and purple nightshirt. My bra is gone, which explains why I was comfortable.Did I take it off…or did he?Just what happened after we agreed to be pleasant?
Definitely no sex, I decide. My thong is still in place, but maybe he pulled it to the side and then put it back…
Okay,no.I’m not the least bit sensitive down there. And as mad as Huxley is at me, I don’t think he’d stoop to taking a woman who was practically comatose.
I can’t believe I passed out and remember nothing. Who knew that nurturing a new life and getting knocked around would be so tiring? Thankfully, my face doesn’t hurt much. Although it felt like hell last night, Nelson’s slap probably lackedsufficient force. Not because he was holding back, but because he just isn’t that strong after decades of lawyering.
I look around. This bedroom is as large as my condo. The bed is a massive California king with a sleek modern headrest against a wall fully covered with a smoked mirror. My purse is on the dove-gray bed bench. A couple of plush leather armchairs occupy a sitting area with a round mahogany table. Double doors to my left are ajar, revealing a walk-in closet with a tall island.
