Page 37 of Wrong Score

“Bex!” she squeals. I take off running with her gripping tight around my neck.

As soon as we reach the limo, I tell the driver that I'll close the door so he can get back in the driver's side and out of the rain. I make sure Rowan gets inside first, then I settle into the seat next to her, closing the door behind me.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

"Where to, sir?" he asks, his eyes reflecting back at us through the rearview mirror and the open window between the limo and the driver's side.

I look to her for instruction. "Where do you want to go? He'll take us anywhere you want."

"Home, please," she tells me. I nod, and then she gives the driver her address.

I know the area she gave him. It's outside of town, which means we'll have more time if she wants to tell me what happened. I want to push her for answers. If Drew did something, or anyone else, to make her react the way she did in that dark hallway, I need to know before the gala ends so that I can break someone's nose or, worse, hurt him. But I won't pressure her to talk to me if she doesn't want to.

We ride in silence, the city lights flashing by outside the windows. And as we drive, I can’t help but feel like something between us has shifted—something I can’t quite put into words yet.

I can't stop this need to protect her. From the turbulent flight, to the rich asshole twice her age trying to pick her up, to whatever happened back at the gala that made her want to get out of there so quickly.

But I know one thing for sure.

I’m not ready for us to get to her apartment just yet.

However, there's one more thing I should be protecting her from, and my ex-wife can vouch for it—me.

Chapter Twelve

Rowan

Bex shuts the door, sealing us inside the dimly lit limo and out of the wet Seattle evening. The sound is like a final exhale, shielding us from the chaos of the gala and the torrential rain that’s now pelting the roof. My heart is still racing, my chest tight, and my breath uneven from the rush of emotions that’s been threatening to spill over since Drew's announcement. I can't stop trembling—whether from the chill of the drenched bottom of my dress or the heartbreaking moment that Bex witnessed.

Oh God… Bex witnessed it all.

I want to pull Bex's jacket back over my head and hide. I can't believe I ran away like that, and I can't believe that Bex ran after me.

He sits beside me, silent but watchful. His hands rest on his knees, clenched, as if he’s willing himself to stay calm for my sake. The quiet inside the limo feels starkly different from the usual back-and-forth banter that Bex and I find ourselves in when we're anywhere near each other. The city lights blur outside as the car melds into traffic, and for some unknown reason, I feel like I need to unload what just happened in there with my ex.

“I’m so sorry, Bex,” I blurt out, my voice shaky, barely holding back the tears threatening to spill. “I shouldn’t have run like that. It’s just... Drew, he…”

My voice breaks, and I struggle to find the words. The humiliation of Drew and his fiancée announcing their pregnancy, of seeing their happy faces while my heart felt like it was being ripped apart, rushes back all at once. Didn't Drew consider that the news would shatter me?

Not the news that he's moved on, or that he's engaged, or even that he's expecting a baby. No… the thing that guts me is that he proved tonight that leaving me gave him a brighter future with a wife and kids—all the things he wanted.

What's to say the next man won't do the same?

"Did he do something to hurt you? Should we go back so I can beat the living—"

I cover my hand over his hand to stop him. "No! No. It's nothing like that. I mean, he hurt me, but not like you think." I clamp my eyes shut for a second and then glance back up at him at my side. "I thought I could handle it—I thought I was getting stronger and had come to terms with what I couldn't have. But seeing him so happy with his decision to end us, and then hearing her mention the baby...” The words tumble out. I don't even know if I'm making sense, but Bex listens intently, though he doesn't look happy.

"He's your ex," he says, somehow already knowing.

"Yes, and she's his new fiancée."

He nods.

"If you wanted him back, you probably shouldn’t have come to my defense. It didn’t win you any points," he says. "Is that why you needed to get out of there? He broke your heart."

I meet his eyes, needing him to understand. “I said those things about you because he was wrong. And leaving was… well, it’s hard to explain. It’s not that I want him back.” I pause, swallowing hard. “It’s just that he’s getting the family we wanted. The family I thought I’d have someday, and now all that I’m left with is…”

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