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A light blush heats my cheeks. “You weren’t too bad yourself, Sharpe. Still aren’t.”
Brian sounds a chuckle of protest. “Reel it in, you two. We’re all more than aware of just how made for each other you are.”
I glance quickly at Jenson, wondering at that. Because on some level, these past two weeks haven’t been as hard to fake as I thought they’d be. The PDA took some getting used to, but after the night we slept together…even that was easy to slip into. Like putting on a well-worn glove, if the glove was a chiseled man in his early thirties. A shiver goes through me at the memory of his wet body pressed against mine in the shower.
“So what happened?” Liza pipes up, the sharpness no longer in her eyes. I think she’s felt a bit betrayed by me. We don’t work closely, but we cross paths often and I’ve obviously never mentioned Jenson. Because there neverwasanything to mention until very, very recently.
“What do you mean?” There’s a dangerous edge to Jenson’s voice, but Liza ignores it and doesn’t meet his gaze.
“You didn’t stay together, right? You only met again a year or two ago?”
More like about a month ago, but I don’t correct her. I almost bite the tip of my tongue, but then the truth spills out of me, because that’s the direction we’ve been going in, anyway. “My aunt got sick and I had to move away.”
Jenson’s eyes cut to me.
He’s never heard this before. I never told him…just left that voicemail.It’s not going to work out.
I wanted so badly for it to work out.
Heart in my throat, I avoid Jenson’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Liza says quickly, but I shake my head.
“It’s fine. She’s doing better now, it was just a rush at the time. We had to follow her cardiologist out of state.”
Brian’s brows rise and he pauses in cutting a piece of the key lime pie in front of him. “Can I ask who she was seeing? Or still is?”
“Dr. Salazar. He was out of Mass General, but transferred out of state to open his own practice.”
“Mmm, Golden Oak, correct? I considered joining that team, but it was very close to my retirement.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“New York City. It was a good move for him, his center is considered one of the top cardiology treatment facilities on the East Coast.”
I smile politely and chance a glance Jenson’s way. His face is blank, and I just know he’s putting it all together. Our conversation a few days ago about Jodie not being a city girl; my unexplained move from Harwinton; that voicemail.
His eyes are boring into mine, demanding answers. Luckily, the middle of dinner isn’t a good place for him to confront me.
“If your aunt is still with him, she must’ve had a very complicated case,” Brian continues conversationally. “She’s doing okay now?”
“She is,” I confirm. This much I did tell Jenson. He just didn’t know the whole backstory.
Dinner winds down, the conversation slipping into how no one wants to return to “real” life. Our day jobs. But for me, it’s different, because whether I stay here or go back to Boston, I can’t escape Jenson. Especially not now that I have another month and a half of this facade to finish out.
After the plates are cleared away and a few people head off to the bar for a drink, I politely excuse myself, hoping to flee to the suite. Maybe lock myself in the bathroom.
But Jenson’s large hand settles on my lower back. “You look tired, love.” We’re still in earshot of others. A shiver goes down my spine—at his touch, or in anticipation of the conversation I know is coming?
Once we’re out of view, I stride down the hallway, dress fluttering at my knees. My heels wobble and I almost go down.No, no, no.Not tonight, not the last night.
It’ll be just me and him in the room.
And I’m not ready to answer to the past.
I slip inside and hear the door shut behind me firmly. Before I can make a run for the balcony or the bathroom, Jenson’s hand wraps around my wrist. It’s not forceful, but insistent. I turn, unable to look up and meet his eyes.
“Is it true?”
