Page 73 of Captivated

Captivated him.

And so maybe, he wanted to see where this might go with her. He wanted to have that chance, but the circumstances just weren’t lining up for either of them at the end of the day. Things kept getting in the way.

Lucian nodded. “You could drop your walls down a bit with us—my family, I mean. Let her see something from you other than … this person I’m looking at. We’re not out to hurt you, Joe.”

“Right again,” Joe returned, heading for the entryway of the room, “I could, Lucian, but I probably won’t. I am who I am.”

Joe left the rest of his words unsaid.

He figured he didn’t have to say them.

They can take me as I am, or not.

Liliana included.

“Fuck,” Joe groaned.

He wasn’t a drinker, but sometimes, a man needed a few shots—or a bottle, who was counting?—of whiskey to be able to close his damn eyes, and go to sleep. After the night before, he figured drinking was the very least he could do to feel better.

He was seriously regretting that choice now that he was trying to peel his eyes open, and the sunlight filtering in through the windows all but burned his eyelids.

Jesus Christ.

And what was the noise?

It made the throbbing in his temples pick up speed. Joe pressed his palms to his eyes to try and relieve some of the pressure, but it didn’t work.

His phone.

Yeah, that’s what the sound was.

His goddamn phone.

Blindly, Joe swung his arm out and felt for his phone on the nightstand. It kept ringing, vibrating, and beating like a damn drum inside his head. Finally, he found the stupid thing, and turned it on before dragging it to his head.

“What?” he snapped.

“Who shit in your Cornflakes?”

Oh, God.

Why did Cory have to be this cheerful in the morning?

It never ended.

“What do you want?”

“You don’t sound good, man,” Cory said.

“Cory, I don’t even have a nerve left for you to work, all right. So, whatever it is, get it the fuck out.”

“I mean, if you want to be a prick about it, then maybe I got nothing for you. If you want to perk your attitude up, and act pleasant like our mother taught you to, then maybe I have some information about your Rich Earl. Which do you want to choose, Joe?”

Damn.

“I’d prefer the bad mood,” Joe grumbled.

“And yet …”