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My fingers dig into my biceps as I try to hold myself together. I worked my ass off at the gym to build muscle. And yeah, I know I don’t look a damn thing like Terrance Montgomery anymore. But I sure as fuck feel like him right now—alone and terrified.
“We don’t want the same things,” I add forcefully.
“Alexandra wants revenge for what you did to her family,” Kayla says, her fingers touching Ava’s head. “And you still, after all your success and the court trials, you still want to get back at the Masters, the adoption agency, every kid who beat you up and teased you in high school.”
I turn away from Kayla. I can’t handle the sight of her dogs, pressing close, offering comfort and protection while I scramble to find a way out. “I need to put an end to this mess.”
“What’s left Gavin?” Kayla asks. “We’ve tried making her look like a crazy ex-girlfriend.”
“We haven’t tried hard enough.” I close my eyes, unable to escape the feeling that I’m still locked in that freaking bathroom and the world outside is spinning out of control, moving faster and faster beyond my grasp, threatening to bury me. My chest tightens. I want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Gavin Black does not surrender.
But if I don’t do something soon, I could lose everything—including Kayla.
I grind my teeth together and open my eyes. Staring out the window, I know that losing the reputation I built from nothing would hurt. But I can’t imagine my life without Kayla in it.
Slowly, I turn to face her. I want to reach for her, but I keep my arms at my side. Surrounded by her rescue dogs, I know she’ll be fine without me. Ava will protect her. The others will make her happy. After her screwed up marriage, she deserves all the happiness in the fucking world.
I’m not sure I can give her that. Sure, I can fund Kayla’s Home for Dogs in Need of the Perfect Human. I can blow her mind in bed, or against the wall at a concert. But I’m not sure that’s enough.
“We haven’t tried hard enough to make Alexandra look like a jealous, crazy ex,” I say again, determined to hold on to this plan.
“Gavin, do you really want to draw this fake engagement out?” she asks softly.
“No.” I keep my tone firm and decisive. There’s only one way out of this, only one path that keeps Kayla here. I can’t afford to let her hear the panic in my voice. “I want you to marry me.”
CHAPTER 23
KAYLA
Before our fake engagement, when I dared to fantasize about Gavin proposing to me, I pictured the traditional down-on-one-knee profession of undying love. The setting would be romantic but private. Not a crowded restaurant, although I wouldn’t object to a picnic basket filled with my favorite foods. My dogs would be there. And if music was playing—that’s a pretty big “if” considering the outdoor setting—it would be classical.
Aside from the fact that Gavin and the dogs are in the picture, reality looks and sounds nothing like my daydreams.
We’re standing in his kitchen. Gavin looks ready to bolt or fight, not drop to one knee. His hands are forming tight fists as if he wants to punch through the wall. And I’m hearing the refrain from a freaking Meatloaf song in my head. The one about doing anything for love, except this.
I love Gavin. Over the past few days, I’ve allowed myself to fall wildly in love with him. But I won’t marry him in a ridiculous attempt to further discredit a woman who’s blackmailing him to do something he should have done a long time ago—tell the truth.
And yes, it does feel as if Alexandra is standing right here in the kitchen with us. Also not part of my proposal fantasy. But without Alexandra, Gavin would never ask me to marry him.
“Let’s make this real,” Gavin adds as if my open-mouthed expression was a result of not understanding the question. “Let’s get married.”
That’s not exactly a question. Not that it matters. There is only one logical answer to his suggestion.
“No, I can’t.” My voice remains surprising calm, though the dogs sense my tension. They’re crowding around me, pressing against my legs as if forming a protective barrier.
Gavin tenses. His fists tighten and I can see the muscles bulging in his forearms under the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down dress shirt. His eyes keep their laser-like focus on me. And I’m reminded that he hasn’t heard the word “no” often in the past decade. Billionaire Gavin Black doesn’t fail.
“You’re not asking for the right reasons,” I add.
“I love you. You know that.”
“Yes,” I say slowly, searching for the words to explain to my best friend, the man I’m in love with, that I can’t be a part of his scheme anymore. “You’re asking because you think a wedding announcement will further distract from Alexandra.”
“It will,” he snaps. “It’s the perfect way to discredit her.’’
“And maintain your flawless image as New York’s most admired billionaire.”
