Page 67 of Painted Truths

I move on autopilot, and within no time at all, I’m standing outside Henry’s door. Lifting my hand up to knock, I’m surprised to see the door jerk open before touching it as though he knew I was right outside at this moment.

“Peaches, I’m so sorry for what happened earlier. But, Andrea… well”—he groans deeply, his face the very image of regret—“let’s just say, she was having issues getting the message I’ve been sending.”

He closes the door as I step further into his space, when I spin to face him with my brow drawn into a deep V.

“Getting the message? Umm… surely, she got the message when you were balls deep in her throat, no?”

I shrug, both for effect and because I’ve overtly had enough. I can’t believe a damaged blue rose turned me into someone I don’t recognise.

“Or maybe it was balls deep in another orifice!”

He looks at me with sad, hurt eyes, reminding me of that stupid song. Another manipulation, no doubt, or at least my head tells my heart that must be the case because I am not prepared for the opposite to be true.

“It’s okay, Mr DeMarco. I have my own ways and means of sorting myself out. If you catch my drift.”

Popping a brow while folding my arms underneath my tits, I push my chest out in defiance alongside my chin.

“No need for comparison, Peach. Andrea was just another easy lay I’ve no interest in repeating. Unlike you and my brother, obviously.”

His jaw ticks, only to make him even more impossibly gorgeous.

Prick.

The sudden, overwhelming need to wipe that smug sneer off his face is not about to let a little thing like the truth get in the way of knocking him down a peg or ten.

And his sudden flip of personality drives me flying over the edge of reason. Jekyll and Hyde have nothing on this guy.

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Mr DeMarco? That’s rich coming from you!”

He has slowly moved closer to me, his eyes fixed firmly on my face.

“Things are not always as they seem, Peaches.” His words are a warning I choose to ignore, despite all the flashing red lights screaming at me to hit the brakes before things spiral out of control.

But maybe I want to lose control. Just for once in my stupid life! So, feigning a nonchalance that I don’t feel, I shrug. “Doesn’t matter to me. I have Alex anyway.”

I take small steps to the left, towards his office door, as he continues to close the gap between us, my words like a red cloak to a raging bull.

“What is it then, Olivia?” The question is spat at me through gritted teeth, and I can’t help the thrill of sadistic delight that runs through me at being able to tear emotion from him unceremoniously.

He steps closer, stalking me slowly.

“Fuck buddies?”

I huff out a laugh as he takes another step closer. He’s almost within arm’s reach as his intoxicating scent reaches me, drowning me in all things Henry.

“A good old friends-with-benefits arrangement?”

I narrow my eyes as he shuffles slightly closer, his eyes never once having left mine nor decreasing in intensity.

“I can get behind one of those, though I don’t indulge myself.”

He raises a brow, almost questioningly, but too heavy on the sarcasm. “Oh no, don’t tell me.” He grasps his chest as though pained. “There are feelings involved, right?”

Prick!

The need to one-up this almighty asshole washes over me like a tsunami as the following words leave my stupid fucking mouth.

“Let’s just say, when I have an itch, he’ll give it a good scratch. If you know what I mean.”