I went with that option.
“Good, we’re alone again. Now lock the door, and we can test how sturdy these chairs… Wait. Where are you going?” one of the women—I didn’t look or care which—called after me as I took off.
I expected Greer to already be at the exit. I would’ve followed through with my plan to force her to talk to me, not giving a damn what kind of scene I caused. But when I turned the corner near the end of the hall, she was standing there.
Waiting.
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I blurted. It sounded as cliché out loud as it had in my head, but it was the truth.
Her expression wasn’t neutral. It was blank. There was no anger or hurt or any sign of emotion. Her voice was just as robotic. “Did you do anything?”
“No. Fuck no. I have no clue who those women?—”
“I don’t care about them,” she said, and fuck, that cut.
Not that I wanted her hurt. I didn’t. But I wanted her to care if I was with anyone else because I sure as shit cared if she was. But she didn’t.
Not if I was sexting other women.
Not if I was sneaking away from her to hook up in a bathroom.
Her voice was barely above a whisper as her gaze darted around to make sure we were still alone. “Did you do drugs?”
If it was a different situation, I would’ve thought it was fucking cute that she sounded like she was filming a DARE video.
“No.” At the way she stared into my eyes, checking my pupils for signs I was lying, I pointed out, “I’ve barely had alcohol lately. I’m not doing mystery blow in the bathroom.”
That seemed to get her as she silently thought about it. She slowly nodded, but she didn’t relax. Her delicate throat convulsed as she swallowed hard. “I know your life is drastically different than mine, and things like that are normal in your world. But I’m not okay with drugs. It’s ruined too many lives, and I can’t be around it.”
“That’s fine because I’m not doing it.”
She didn’t look like she believed me.
“I’m not saying I’ve never done it. I have. But not for a while.”
Not since meeting you.
Ever since she came into my life, there wasn’t that pit in my gut that I was trying to fill anyway I could. There was no numbness I was drinking or snorting away in the hopes of feeling something.
But at the way rejection clawed at my gut like a tiller, I could’ve gone for some numbness.
“And you won’t while I’m working for you?” She scrunched her face. “Or at least when I’m with you?”
“I won’t at all.”
I expected more fight or skepticism. Hell, I was prepared to piss in a cup so she could test to confirm I was telling the truth.
But her shoulders finally relaxed as she nodded. “Okay, good.”
There’s been very little good about this night.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I muttered as I pulled my phone out to text Hank.
By the time we got outside, he was already parked in the secure area and standing outside of the open rear door. I touched Greer’s lower back, helping her in before rounding the vehicle to get in on the other side.
Hank tried to rush over to open my door but just shook his head as I settled myself. He climbed into the driver’s seat. “Still going to Golden?”
Going there—technically to Gilded, but Hank didn’t know about that—would’ve been smart. I could work through the ache that made it feel like my ribs were going to crack. I could punish Greer’s sweet ass, reminding myself that even if my feelings weren’t reciprocated, I had her trust.
