Page 149 of Holiday Hire

I move closer to the door. "Don't touch me right now."

"Pheebs, come on. It's over with her, and I've been up front with her about it. And there's no reason to let her ruin our night."

I snap my head toward him. "No reason to let her ruin our night? She's in the bar, talking about your dick, Alexander."

He clenches his jaw, staring at me.

My insides quiver harder. I lower my voice, and it shakes as I say, "She seems to think you're still together too."

He claims, "I'm not with her. I've told you what our relationship was about and that it's done."

I boom, "Why does she think you're still together, then? Oh, wait, maybe because you're friends with benefits and haven't told her it's over. Or are you keeping her on the sideline for when I leave?"

His eyes turn to slits. "Leave? What are you talking about?"

I close my mouth, feeling sick from my insides shaking so hard. I stare out the window, clenching my hands together.

He softens his tone, asking, "Pheebs, are you leaving?"

"My employment's up after the two-month period, you know that."

Silence fills the cab. I wait for him to tell me I don't have to go after the two months are up, that this is real between us, and he wants me to stay, but the longer the silence goes on, the worse it gets. I blink hard, but my tears win.

And I fear it's true. What if I'm just another friend with benefits to Alexander, even if he claims we're more?

Maybe I'll be tossed aside just like Cheyenne was.

It serves that woman right.

How could he ever be with her?

"Pheebs." He reaches for my hand.

I close my eyes, take several deep breaths, and swipe some tears off my cheek.

He sternly orders, "Phoebe, look at me."

I slowly turn my head toward him, questioning, "What do you see in her anyway?"

He clenches his jaw.

I scoff. "What? I'm not supposed to ask? She's in the bar talking about your stallion, and I'm not supposed to ask?"

"Stop talking about my dick. And she shouldn't have said that," he adds.

More anger hits me. "You think? Or she just shouldn't have said it because now I'm pissed? Actually, how many other women in town know about your stallion?"

He stares at me for a few minutes, taking shallow breaths and gritting his teeth.

I wait him out.

He snarls, "I'm not fucking everybody in town, Phoebe."

I accuse, "No, you're fucking her!"

His voice rises. "I'm not fucking Cheyenne anymore. I told you it's over between us."

"Then why doesn't she think that?" I repeat.

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