Page 29 of Just My Ex

“I already have,” Henry says, chuckling. “Well, I’ve tried.”

“Have you been pretending I’m some undercover assassin who needs your help absconding with a priceless artifact?”

His smile is broad, untethered. “What is it that you think I do exactly?”

“My imagination has been forced to supply my mind with all kinds of possible explanations of what you do for work.”

For why you chose it over us.But I don’t add that.

“That’s fair, too.” He glances at me. “And I’m sorry you were forced to do that.”

I blink rapidly. “Careful. We can’t break the rules by bringing up our past.” I laugh. “And I’ll take the blame for that one, since I mentioned your job.”

“Quinn, I know we’ve set some rules here, and I think that’s good. But if you ever decide you need to talk anything through, I'm very open to that."

"No need." I brighten again, my hands on my hips. “So you really pretend I’m a client?”

He hesitates. “The Ostlins are a large family with many offshoots. I’ve been thinking of this whole endeavor as an extension of that. So basically, you’re a long-lost cousin of the Ostlins.” He shifts in his stance. “It helps.” He hedges, as if he wants to say more, to say what it helps with.

“Oooh. Intriguing.” But before I can break into a pretend narrative around my tragic backstory—please let’s talk about fiction, not about real life—I spot a man up ahead, higher on the ridge in front of the tree line.

Everything in Henry tenses, like hackles on an angry dog. He sees the man, too. Henry’s muscles engage … muscles I never knew he had perk up, standing at agonizing attention.

I squint. The guy looks like Henry, only taller, leaner.

“Is that Alec?”

Henry sighs, digging his shoe into the ground. “Wait here,” he says to me.

He stalks towards him. Henry has the stalking thing down. His gait, the set of his shoulders, all belie the fact that he’s a man walking into the lion’s den.

A very raw, attractive man.

I try really, really hard not to notice.

But I am not blind.

Chapter 11

Henry

Alec doesn’t say anything, just stares past me. He lifts a hand to wave at Quinn and then goes on looking out across the water.

There’s a simplicity about the way he moves, an effortless athleticism rivaled only by Sebastian on the basketball court. As for me? I’m built stronger, sturdier. I could still beat him in a fight, which wouldn’t have occurred to me would ever be necessary until now—he’s that angry.

“You missed the meeting last night,” I say.

“You missed the wedding.” Alec is a former professional football player whose career was cut short by one of the worst knee injuries a person can have. He’s taller than me by a couple of inches, but I’m more muscle bound, so there’s that.

“It wasn’t even your wedding. I’ll make it to yours, dude.”

“That’s almost worse. To pick and choose like that?”

“Is that why you missed the meeting? To punish me or something? And just so you know, I’ve already talked to Oliver about it. And apologized to Sophie.”

I did what I had to do, for their safety, and this is the way I’m being treated?

Alec works his jaw. “What are you doing up here?”

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