Page 49 of Ask Me Something

Chapter Ten

The moment I entered my room, the phone started ringing. I chose to ignore it. My adrenaline had run its course, the alcohol had left my system, and I was left reeling at everything that had transpired during the last hour.

After taking a hot shower, I came back into the room in my towel and scowled at the sound of a knock on the door. Exhaustion had set in and I refused to answer. I especially didn’t need shit from Brian about my soft skills regarding his sister-in-law or mother. I was too raw from what had happened at the beach and the aftermath of him being angry about it.

Lying down on the bed, I tried to shut my mind off. I wasn’t panicking, which was an encouraging sign. Sometimes it was the little victories when it came to coping with anxiety. The sound of my hotel door opening made me sit up. Brian’s profile was illuminated by the hall light before he shut the door behind him.

“You’re breaking and entering now?” I muttered, watching him from the bed.

“I had to. You wouldn’t pick up the phone or answer the door.”

“Do I even want to know how you got the key?”

“Probably not. Look, before we get into what happened between us, I’d like to talk about what transpired with Rebecca.” He flipped on the reading light on the nightstand.

I watched him sit on the bed and met his eyes. “I’m not apologizing—”

He didn’t let me finish. “I’m embarrassed to be related to someone who would say anything negative about someone like Haylee, and I’m glad you were there for her tonight. I’m sorry that my mom would confront you like that.”

I was stunned. I’d assumed he would tell me I’d been too harsh or, worse, make excuses for their behavior. “You’re not going to lecture me on how I could have handled it better?”

He shook his head. “If anything, I admire the fact that you stayed calm. And I need to—”

I launched myself at him with a kiss, not allowing him to continue.

His surprise turned to reciprocation quickly with his hands weaving into my hair. He pulled back, searching my eyes. “What was that for?”

“For believing me,” I said simply.

He stroked my face. “I know I’ve criticized your first impressions and the ways you communicate, but that was from a work perspective to help with clients. I understand you well enough to know you’re not spilling wine on someone unless it’s warranted, Sasha.”

I couldn’t begin to tell him how much his words meant. Almost always, people assumed I was the one being the bitch. “Thank you.”

He placed his thumb on my bottom lip as was his habit. “The other person handling things terribly this evening was me.”

“Agreed. Why were you angry?”

He took a minute to respond. “I’m used to being in control, and when I lost it, I took it out on you.”

“Okay, I think I get that part. But what I don’t understand is why our first time was so important to you.”

His look was vulnerable. “I’ve had this fantasy of how I wanted it to go if ever given a second chance with you. I didn’t want to take any risks ruining it or blowing it like in Miami. And I screwed it up anyhow, but I won’t be able to stand another three years waiting.”

Oh, Jesus, he thought it was his fault in Miami. “Brian, you didn’t blow it that night in Miami. It was—” I didn’t get the opportunity to finish.

“I know you say that, but one minute I’m supposed to meet you in your room and the next you were sending me a text message not to come. Obviously, I pushed it too far, too fast.”

Shaking my head, I murmured, “You didn’t. It wasn’t that.”

He got up from the bed to pace. “I saw you leave the hotel. You sent me that message about not coming up, and then twenty minutes later I saw you walk through the lobby to get into a cab curbside. I never knew if there was another guy or what, but you left.”

Oh, God. I put my hands over my face and breathed deeply. “I have a confession to make about Miami.”

He stopped his pacing and stared at me intently. “I don’t think I want to hear this if it was another man, even three years later.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t another man. But this isn’t easy. I’ve never told anyone before. Could you please sit?”

He must’ve sensed my unease because he was on the bed in a second, holding my hands. “I should have left it alone. It was three years ago, and I don’t need to know the details.”

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