Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
He smiled but it was less bright than before. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry for what Xavier did.”
He stood, frowning. “It’s not your apology to hand out. Do you want to leave?”
“Yes, I’m not in the mood for partying anymore. Please don’t be mad.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. It was a lovely evening up until Xavier barged in.”
“It was,” I said with a small laugh. My eyes were drawn to a scene behind Blake where Dakota threw her drink into Xavier’s face, whirled around and rushed off.
Blake followed my eyes. “You and him?” There was no judgment in his voice, only a hint of resignation.
“No, it’s not like that,” I said quickly.
“Okay,” Blake said, but I could tell that he didn’t believe me. We headed out of the club and on our way back to my home, he engaged me in polite conversation but I could tell that he was more cautious than before.
When he stopped in front of the house, I turned to him. “It was a lovely evening and you are a wonderful guy.”
He grimaced. “I’ve heard those words before,” he said bitterly. “Women always fall for the asshole type. Xavier is living proof.”
I wanted to protest but snapped my lips shut. “I’m sorry,” I said eventually. “It wouldn’t be fair to you to keep seeing you. Right now, it isn’t the right time for me to look for someone.”
Blake nodded. “It’s okay. Thank for the evening.”
With a last smile, I got out.
Fiona was expecting me in the entryway like an eager puppy. One look at my face and she frowned. “Don’t tell me he turned out to be an asshole too.”
“No, he was a gentleman.”
“Then what?”
“Xavier shoved Blake when he tried to kiss me.”
“He did what? Has he lost his mind? You are his assistant, not his girlfriend. I’m going to kick his ass tomorrow.”
I touched her arm. “Don’t. Just let it drop. I don’t want any more drama. I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”
I met my brother in our favorite pub, where they had a new selection of craft beers on tap every week and the best fish and chips in town. Marc was already in our usual booth when I stepped in. I waved at the owner of the pub, who never made a big deal when I came over. This was a place where I didn’t have to worry about paparazzi taking a photo of me. They had done enough of that last night. I didn’t buy the tabloids but I’d caught glimpses of their headlines, and all of them included me. Most of them with Blake and Evie, some with Dakota when she threw her drink in my face. The latter I didn’t mind. The former made me raving mad because I knew the pictures would bother Evie.
“Fifteen minutes late,” Marc commented as I slid into the chair across from him. “For before Evie-Xavier that would have been good, but now I expect better.” He had already ordered two glasses of a dark amber beer. I raised the glass to my lips and took a generous gulp.
Marc scanned my face. “What’s going on?”
“I fucked up,” I said.
Marc gave me a look. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he joked, then sobered. “It’s not about Evie, is it?”
He sounded like this would crush him. What was it with Evie and winning over everyone she ever met? The coach, my teammates, my family…Blake. I still wanted to punch his face for dancing with Evie, for having his hands on her hips, for trying to kiss her. He wanted her, wanted what I wanted for myself. What if Evie decided to go out with him again? Or someone else?
“I slept with her,” I muttered, setting the glass down and waiting for the tongue-lashing to begin.
Marc shook his head once, disapproving, then took a long sip from his beer, all the while assessing me like I had admitted to committing murder, and not sex.
“Can you stop that disappointed older brother look? I’m feeling shitty enough.”
“Why?” he asked. “You slept with almost every single one of your assistants and you never felt shitty about it, or about any of the other women you slept with and disposed of like a dirty rag.”
“Evie isn’t just any woman. She’s…”
Marc leaned forward, curious. “She’s what?”
I frowned. Evie was important. Important to me. “Never mind.”
Marc pulled away with a sigh and sank back in his seat. “Okay, so you slept with her…but I assume you didn’t throw her out of your apartment right after?”
He was starting to piss me off. “I didn’t throw her out. She left the next morning before I could say anything.”
“Which was probably for the best because you probably wouldn’t have made things better with words.”
“Probably,” I conceded, taking another sip. I wasn’t sure what I would have said, but not what Evie wanted to hear, that was clear.