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“Georgie,” Reed says. He gets up from the bed, clearly intending to comfort me.
But I hold up my palm. “Stop.”
He stops in the middle of the room, mere feet away from me, his bare chest heaving.
“I get that you couldn’t possibly love Alessandra’s music the way I do. And I know in your world nobody gets a gold star for progress, only results. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel crushed in this moment, to hear your brutally honest opinion. It doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to feel whatever I honestly feel, and give myself time to process it and try to move past it. I’m sorry you’re not getting laid tonight, like you planned. Like you think you’re owed. But you should know I’m not withholding my body from you because you didn’t give me the result I wanted on the demo. I’m not a spoiled brat. And I’m not a whore. I’m withholding my body from you because I’m pissed at the way you spoke to me. The way you assumed I’m so quick to trade on my body.” I take a deep breath. “Now, I’m going to my room to be alone for the rest of the night, to process my emotions and anger, because, if I don’t, I’m going to say something I regret. Or, quite possibly, punch you in the face.” With that, I swing open Reed’s door with gusto, tossing over my shoulder, “See you in the morning, Mr. Rivers. But only because you’re my fucking job.”
Chapter 5
Reed
After Georgina slams my bedroom door shut behind her, I stride to it, every fiber in my body urgently wanting to fling it open and follow her. But I stop myself. Indeed, I stand at the door and press my forehead against it and force myself to stay put.
Goddammit. Why did Georgie have to push so hard about that demo? I knew listening to it would lead to nothing good. I could feel it in my bones. But she pushed and pushed. And now, here we are.
Doesn’t she know I went in wanting to love Alessandra’s music? Doesn’t she know nothing would have given me greater pleasure? But I had to be honest. Brutally honest. I’ll lie and fudge a little about certain things. But not about my professional judgment. Not for friends or family or anyone else. Not even for the most electrifying girl I’ve ever met in my life.
Fuck. I thought I’d be tying sexy Georgina’s limbs to my bedposts tonight, and then fucking her to bliss like she’s never been fucked before. Not making her hate my guts. Yeah, making Georgina storm out of my bedroom tonight most definitely wasn’t the plan. Neither was making her cry.
For the love of fuck, how was I supposed to know about Georgina’s mother? Somewhere in my brain, I vaguely remember Georgina saying something about Alessandra losing her father as a kid... I think? But Georgie’s never said a word about her own mother. How was I supposed to know Georgina’s grief about her mother, and her love for Alessandra, and for Alessandra’s music, are all tied up together inside her? I mean, if I’d known that, it wouldn’t have changed my opinion in any way. It wouldn’t have changed the ultimate result. But maybe I would have phrased things slightly differently. With a touch more, I don’t know, gentleness? Am I even capable of doing that, though? I sincerely don’t know.
Shit!
I want so badly to march into Georgina’s room and explain myself. Or maybe, just try to comfort her. But I know I can’t. Georgina said she wants to be alone, and I can’t chase her. Long before she stormed out, when she was perfectly calm earlier, she requested a separate room, much to my dismay. Which means she didn’t want me the way I want her, even before this latest fiasco.
Sighing, I straighten up from the door, drag my exhausted ass back to bed, and turn off my lamp. God, I’m exhausted. This has been a long damned day. I close my eyes and command my body to sleep. But, soon, it’s clear my body isn’t going to obey. I’m way too wound up.
Muttering expletives, I grab my laptop and click into a licensing agreement requiring my review. But I can’t concentrate. Because... Georgina.
Goddammit! I knew she’d fly off the handle about the demo. I knew it, without a doubt. Because underneath all that beauty beats the heart of a fucking psycho. There. I said it. She’s beautiful and sexy and smart and funny. And the most exciting woman I’ve ever met. But all that comes with a price. Namely, that she’s also a fucking psycho.
I sit up in bed and drag a palm over my face. God, she’s sexy as hell when her psycho peeks out. I shouldn’t get turned on by her flashes of anger the way I do, but, oh, God, I do. So fucking much.
