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“I let you kiss me,” I say angrily.
It’s not until Andrew’s head whips around to look at me that I realize my mistake. “I mean—I—Andrew, wait—”
He takes another step back, his eyes shuttering as his face resumes its usual impenetrable icy mask. He lifts his hand to a temple as though warding off pain, then drops it. “I’m late,” he says curtly, turning away.
And because I know there’s nothing more disastrous in Andrew Mulroney’s life than being late, I let him go, watching helplessly as the distance betwe
en us increases with his determined steps.
Brody whistles. “Damn. What was that about?”
“Shut up, Brody. Who are you engaged to, anyw—Actually, you know what?” I hold up both hands. “I don’t even care. Just leave.”
“Georgie—”
“Leave,” I say, my tone sharper than I’ve ever heard it. Maybe Andrew Mulroney is rubbing off on me.
Brody gives a tired sigh like I’m the troublesome one, and bends down to kiss my cheek. “Call you later?”
I give him a look.
He laughs. “Or I’ll let you cool down first. See ya, babe.”
Unbelievable.
I don’t even register whether Brody walks away, hails a cab, or what. I’m too busy watching Andrew’s retreating figure get smaller and smaller until he disappears.
Well…
Damn it.
Now what?
Andrew
MONDAY AFTERNOON
Andrew tried mightily to pay attention to his phone conversation, to listen to what Liv Dotson was telling him, even as he rummaged through each and every one of his desk drawers in search of aspirin he knew wouldn’t be there.
There was a reason he took such good care of himself, and it was so he could avoid feeling the way he did right this moment: like absolute shit.
Damn Georgiana Watkins. Damn Brody what’s-his-name. He had half a mind to blame them both for the headache that was currently crushing his skull.
That slimy paparazzo too.
As for the kiss…he wasn’t thinking about that. At least, he wasn’t letting his brain think about it. His body, though—he wasn’t sure it would ever forget what it had felt like to finally, finally give in to his want for her.
He’d been fantasizing about the moment for weeks.
It had exceeded expectations.
“Anyway, I’m really just so sorry about how this worked out,” Liv said as Andrew gave up and closed the last drawer. “I feel like you wasted your time.”
“Absolutely do not apologize,” he said, giving in to the rare urge to slump back against his chair and close his eyes. “Believe it or not, I wish more of my cases worked out this way.”
Liv laughed softly. “I have to doubt that. You wouldn’t make a living!”
“There will always be divorces,” he said, lifting a hand and pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off a surge of pain and dizziness. “I’m just glad you and Chris won’t be one of them.”
