Page 54 of Some Kinda Romance

That night when I’d run into him outside of her apartment, he must’ve been there to let her know what he had on us, and instead of helping, I’d made it worse. I’d broken up with her, sarcastically wishing her luck with her reconciliation with the manipulative, blackmailing son of a bitch.

Shit. Fuck. Oh, man.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, I jumped out of bed and took off to my bathroom. I had no idea how to do it, but I had to make this up to her somehow. I’d been such a dick to her in a time when I was sure she could’ve used someone by her side. Someone supportive who believed in her rather than accusing her of wanting to try again with the asshole who was now trying to destroy her reputation.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her at all and I knew for sure now that she didn’t want anything to do with Ethan. I wasn’t in the way of them making their marriage work and I wasn’t sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong. They were no longer husband and wife and she had no intention of ever getting back together with him. If she did, she would have taken him back instead of letting a story like this get out after he’d threatened her with it.

Deciding to risk it, I looked up Julie’s number once I was dressed and ready. She picked up, sounding puzzled when she answered. “Dash St. Clair? I programmed your number into my phone from the paperwork you guys filled in for the wedding, so unless I got it wrong somehow, this is you, and if you want me to hear you out, you better speak fast.”

Wasting no time, I didn’t even bother with pleasantries before I told her why I’d called. “I need your help. I fucked up with Serenity and I want to make it right.”

There was a brief moment of silence before she spoke again, her voice strong and firm. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only if you’re serious this time. I’m tired of seeing my friend hurt, and if you do it again, with my help to boot, I will have your balls. I don’t care how much they’re worth, St. Clair. I will neuter you.”

I flinched involuntarily, but I didn’t let her know about it. “I’m not going to hurt her. Granted, I had a momentary lapse in judgment, but it won’t happen again. Have you heard of Pablo’s Coffee Bar?”

“No, but I’ll find it.”

“It’s between your office and mine. Meet me there in an hour.” I tacked on the last word as something of an afterthought. “Please?”

“Okay,” she agreed, dragging out the word. “But I swear, if you⁠—”

“I won’t,” I repeated firmly. “Just meet me there, okay? I’m going to prove to you and to her that I’m sorry, and I am. I thought…”

“You thought you were interfering in a marriage,” she finished for me. “I know. She told me what you said. How very noble of you not to be the other man even after the couple got divorced.”

Sarcasm dripped from her voice, but instead of calling her out on it, I made sure she’d meet me. Then I hung up. Actions spoke louder than words, and arguing with her right now wasn’t the way to go. I wanted her to help me. I needed her to help me if I was going to pull this off.

As I grabbed my wallet and keys, I sent out a silent plea into the universe that my plan worked. If it didn’t, I would lose her forever. A possibility I didn’t even want to think of facing. I wouldn’t lose her. I couldn’t.

Not like this. Not now. Definitely not because of a douchebag who’d already taken so much from her. I simply wouldn’t allow him to take me too.