Page 158 of Shade
I can’t breathe. What are the signs of a heart attack? I think I’m having one.
Do you see the guy in front of me? Do you notice the weary expression, the slow blinking and the betrayal revealed in them?
Make it go away.
“What was Tom talking about with the stalking?” he asks, pressing his hands into the wall on either side of me, backing me up against the brick wall behind my back once we’re outside.
My heart drops to my stomach like an anchor. “It’s nothing.”
His eyes narrow and he shakes his head, his blues never so intimidating as they are now. “No, it’ssomething. Did you lie to get this job?”
“I know it sounds bad, but I can explain. I was a little obsessed with you and I wanted to sleep with you. We had sex.”
His eyes widen and he nearly gasps. “What?When?”
“When you were here in July, at the hotel.” I can’t keep the nervousness from my voice. It shakes my body and words. “I was the girl in your room waiting for you, and we had sex that night. You don’t remember.”
Frustration digs at his brow, and he blinks, slowly and searches my face for answers. His hands drop, and he takes a step back. “Did you plan it?”
Tears surface and my breathing becomes uncontrollable. “Did Iplan onsleeping with you?”
One tight nod.
“I did. I wanted one night with you. About a million women probably want to sleep with you, Shade. I think me being naked in your room made it obvious I wanted to fuck you. But I also never led you to believe anything different.”
“Bullshit you didn’t,” he spits back at me. “You fucking led me to believe you only wanted to be my friend, not that we’d already shared something together.”
“Something you didn’t remember.”
His chest heaves with a breath, eyes narrowing and locking me in the wicked glare that follows. “So you took the job. . . . Why did you take the job? To torture me?”
For a moment, I don’t say anything. His body heat scolds me and my heart races. After a few seconds, I find my voice. “I don’t know why.” I shrug, admitting the truth, one I hadn’t given him until now. “Mila suggested it. I met with you and Willa, and then the next thing I knew, I had the job, and I was flying to California. I didn’t plan on any of this.”
Shade takes another step back, distancing himself as he scrubs his hands over his face. “When did you figure out that I didn’t remember fucking you?”
“The day we met in the restaurant, but that night you specifically told me you were fucked up and wouldn’t remember.”
He nods, his jaw clenching. “So you took it to get back at me with knowing I’d want to sleep with you?”
“No, I didn’t.” I sound like I’m begging, and I am. I take a step toward him, my palms up, pleading he listen, but he immediately shakes his head. As if to say, don’t come closer. “I took the job because Willa offered it to me and I’ve done absolutely nothing with my life, until now. I took the job because I felt attached to you in a way I couldn’t explain.” I can’t keep anything from him, but I’m also not sure I can tell him about Asher, and have him understand me in the ways I want him to with the state of mind he’s in now. “I told you I couldn’t sleep with you because I signed a contract that specifically said I couldn’t have “sexual intercourse” with any of the Sawyer brothers.”
When I raise my eyes to his, part of me is surprised to see him smiling. But there is a certain sadness to his eyes. I remember it from before. The night in the hotel room. A sadness he isn’t sure he can let go of. A hole he may never mend. He’s smiling to cover it up. But if you look at this from his point of view, he has every right to be mad at me, doesn’t he?
Do you think I’m an asshole?
“I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything before I took the job. I didn’t think it mattered if you didn’t remember me.”
He’s conflicted. He wants to believe me, but he’s scared.
He’s silent, unmoving, maybe even not breathing. And then he clears his throat, thinking about what I just said. My stomach does a flip when he barely raises those long lashes.
What’s he thinking?It’s driving me mad not knowing.
“Shade, please say something.”
Panic rushes through me when he speaks. “Why didn’t you feel telling me the truth was important enough to our friendship? I thought. . . you were different.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat, but his expression, it’s devastating. He looks up at me like he needs me to breathe, but I know he doesn’t. He wouldn’t after this.
His eyes find mine, and it feels like my soul is splitting in two.
