Page 60 of Warming His Bed

“Really what, Sadie?” He blew up. “What the fuck do you care? You’re going to be out of here in a couple of weeks. You think I’m going to bare my fucking soul about all the dark shit I have going on up here”—he tapped his temple—“because we’ve been banging for a few days? It’s none of your goddamn business whether I ever talk to Ivy, or anyone else for that matter, about the accident.”

“Oh, because everything is going just fine? Because it’s totally normal for a perfectly healthy man in his thirties to be holed up like Howard Hughes in a house full of his dead mom’s old knickknacks?”

His gaze was anything but blank now, and I couldn’t suppress the sick satisfaction that I’d gotten a reaction out of him.

At least he wasn’t acting like he was already dead anymore.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me how I should live my life? You have no idea what I’ve been through,” he bellowed.

“Who does, Drew?” I threw my hands up. “Because I get the impression you’re not hashing your shit out with anyone. Even if it isn’t me.”

“Am I a fun little distraction for you?” His nostrils flared. “Is bagging the broken loner a side project for you while you work on your celebrity hunt?”

His words sliced through me. “Don’t be an asshole. You know that isn’t what this is.”

I’d worked so hard to move on from my past that it killed me to watch him trapped in the quicksand of his own history, refusing to take any action that might help him move forward. I remembered that feeling, and it wasn’t a place I wanted to revisit.

“I don’t know shit. Besides the fact that you’re going to bounce soon. You’ll be on to your next fling on your next assignment, not a care in the world. Living your bright, shiny little life. So don’t act like you’re entitled to go digging around through my baggage. Today is not. The fucking. Day for it.”

Shaking my head, I let out a huff. “Right. Because you’re the only person anything bad has ever happened to.”

If he weren’t so goddamn stubborn and closed off, we could be helping one another through this day.

“You need to go,” he roared.

“Gladly.” I stomped past him. “Have a great day wallowing in your past instead of living the life you’ve got left.”

I slammed the door behind me and didn’t look back.

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