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“How are you?” he asks. His voice is husky and full of emotion. I breathe in, the smell of his aftershave hitting me and almost knocking me off balance. God, I just want to touch him. The need to feel him close to me is overwhelming.
“I’m good,” I begin. Then I panic. What do I say? “You still owe me a story.”
That’s what I choose to lead with?
He chuckles, motioning for me to sit down.
“I have some free time now. Can I get you a drink?” I shake my head. I couldn’t stomach anything right now. He nods and walks over to his bar, pouring himself a scotch. “Well, then,” he says after downing the drink in one mouthful. “Let’s get this over with.”
Over with?
He can’t wait to be done with me.
I can’t describe the despair I feel in the pit of my stomach. That answers all my questions. Somehow I still need to get through this, or I risk looking like an idiot.
“Where shall I start?” he asks, sitting down in his chair. He leans back, crossing one leg over the other. His dark eyes lock on mine and I mourn the passion I’ll never feel again.
“The beginning.”
Chapter 29
Jaxon
“The beginning,” she says.
I smirk, watching the words tumble from her lips. I don’t give a damn about anything other than making her my own right now, but a promise is a promise. I’ll give her the story, but she’s not leaving this room until she knows the truth.
“You need to give me more direction than that, Charlotte. Didn’t they teach you that in journalism school?”
She narrows her eyes at me, obviously not liking my condescending tone.
“I didn’t think you liked direction,” she mutters, almost to herself, and I laugh. “Fine. Did you ever suspect Ryan was involved with Brynne?”
“No,” I reply. And I was stupid not to. Ryan should’ve been my first thought as soon as I realized I was being played. “I thought he’d fucked up my life enough. I didn’t realize he’d go this far.”
She shifts awkwardly. “I can’t do this, Jaxon. I don’t care about the damn story. I can’t sit here and pretend I give a shit about it anymore.” She gets to her feet. “I have to go,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “And I’m sure you want to get back to whatever—or whoever—it was you were doing.”
“Whoever I’m doing?” I repeat, amused. I can’t deny I like that I’ve gotten under her skin. Knowing that she still wants me makes it easier for me to pursue her.
“You’re known to get around,” she bites back. Her eyes narrow, and I see how serious she is. “Is Brynne still here?”
“Here?” I laugh. “What makes you think she would be staying here?” I take a step toward her. The clouds begin to lift and I realize what she’s thinking. She thinks I’m still in love with Brynne. God, does this woman have no idea what she does to me? What I feel for Charlotte outshines anything I’ve ever felt for anyone else.
I slide my hand into hers and tug her closer to me. My fingers close around her neck and I tilt her head back, forcing her to look at me. I breathe in sharply, taking in the pain and confusion in her eyes.
“I’m not in love with Brynne,” I say quietly.
“But you were,” she interjects, her tone almost accusing. “The way things ended…I know she cares about you. How can you not still feel something for her?”
“Because you came along,” I murmur. I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself to contain the emotion threatening to spill over. “Fuck, Charlotte, you drive me insane in every way. I can’t think when I’m around you, but I can’t breathe when I’m not. How can you not see that just by looking at me? I’m a fucking mess around you.”
Her jaw drops. “Are you kidding?” She laughs. “You’re impossible to read. God help anyone who ever plays poker against you. So many times I convinced myself it was all just business with you.” Her eyes drop and I feel the mood in the air shift. “I thought you’d never be able to get past what happened with your family.”
“I thought the same thing for a long, long time,” I admit.
She shifts nervously on the spot. “So, what happens now?”
“I hope you’ll reconsider leaving,” I say. I take her hand and pull her up against me.
