Page 66 of Bombshells
“Yeah...” Anton chuckles uneasily. “I was trapped on the jet next to him. So I asked him why he didn’t, uh, deliver you home himself.”
My smile dies. “Do I even want to hear what he said?”
“It’s not my place to broker information between you.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to say—that I can’t be the guy who’s in the middle of your complications. It’s not fair to anyone, and it’s not good to keep secrets from my friend and teammate. I can’t be that guy, Sylvie. No matter how much I—”
“How much you…?”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. You two have things to say to each other.”
“Not really. I thought he cared about me. But I was wrong.”
“You’re not, though.” His voice drops into a husky register, and out comes a whole lot of words at once. “Bryce isn’t like me. He doesn’t shoot first and ask questions later. There’s a lot going on in that guy’s head. You have years of history together, and I felt like some dick who just barged in, okay? And here’s Bryce—the kind of guy who takes everything slowly and carefully, and...” He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a distracted hand through that same golden hair that felt like silk under my fingers. “Christ, I was a brute.”
I almost argue the point, because a brute had been exactly what I was looking for, and I hadn’t even known it.
When he lifts his eyes again, they’re full of remorse. “I just didn’t know what to say to you afterwards,” he whispers. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“For not calling?”
“For everything.” He gulps, and his regret seems a little over the top if you ask me. Although genuine.
What on Earth did Bryce say to this man unless…
No.
Oh hell no. I level Anton with a stare. “Hold on. What did he say about me, exactly?”
Anton shakes his head.
“Did he...” I swallow hard at the horror of it. “He didn’t tell you that…”
Anton winces, and that’s when I know the ugly truth.
“Oh my God.”
When Bryce decided to pour out his conflicted heart, my lack of a sex life might have come up. Which is dumb, Because Bryce doesn’t even know that I’d never had sex before that night with Anton. He might assume it. But he really has no idea.
And no right to discuss it with his teammate on the goddamn jet.
“I’ll kill him,” I thunder. “I’ll roast him alive. That’s none of his business! And it’s also none of yours.”
“Sylvie.” Anton has his head in his hands. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. Bryce was kinda word-vomiting. He isn’t the kind of guy to invade your privacy like that.”
This is probably true, but I’m still upset. And then I have a brand new horrible idea. “Wait. You didn’t tell him, did you? About us?”
“No!” Anton yelps, looking up at me. “Not a goddamn word. I just sat there feeling like the world’s worst human.”
“For what?” I gasp. “Dancing with me? And then making me feel like the only girl in the world? God. It was the best thing to happen to me in a long time.”
His eyes flare. But I’m not done.
“So if you can’t live with yourself, spare me the details. That’s so sexist, Anton. You’re no better than Bryce installing a lock on a door that doesn’t need another lock. You’re making decisions about me without considering my point of view. Let me just ask you this—did you enjoy it?”
“Fuck yes,” he growls.
“But now you regret it? Nobody asked you to do that. I’ve just spent the last eight days wishing you’d show up at my door and do it again. I truly do not understand what it is about me that has this effect on men. Where did I go wrong?”
“Nowhere,” Anton says. His hands are fists. “You didn’t do a thing wrong.”
