Page 67 of And Then Came You

“Figure it out, Sam.” The line clicks dead and I pitch the phone across the room, my anger careening into the red.

This is why I stick to nameless fucks. It’s easy. My emotions don’t get involved. I tried to give my heart to Lexi, but she smashed it under her heel. I spilled my guts in those notes that I shoved under her door, but my heart meant nothing to her. She made that real clear just now.

Fuck this shit. I’m out of here. Tossing my clothes into the suitcase, I call for a limo to the airport.

Lexi wants to shut me out of her life? I can freeze her colder than the Arctic.

* * *

“How did it go?” Caroline asks, peering at me from over her laptop.

“Don’t ask.”

But Caroline has never been one to take a hint, particularly not when it involves me and my emotions. Following me into my bedroom, she crosses her arms over her chest like a redheaded sentry, blocking the door. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did anything? It’s always my fault, right? Why is that? Because of my looks? I covered myself in tattoos and piercings to belessattractive, but women ate that shit up, anyway.”

“Glad to see your ego is intact.”

“Get out,” I seethe, feeling my insides rage in every direction.

“Unless you’re firing me, you can kiss my ass, because I’m not leaving. And before you get all high and mighty, know how much crap there is to finish before the show. Crap that I handle and you know nothing about.”

“I’m not firing you. I just need time alone.”

She holds out her hands; her face imploring me to speak to her. “I’ve never seen you like this before, but I can’t help you if you won’t open up to me.”

Screw that crap. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I open myself up to anyone again.

Not happening.

“Leave. Me. Alone.”

I slam the bedroom door, shutting off my heart and my friend.

Fuck love. It was a bad idea from the start.

* * *

Caroline and I exist in the same space for the next few days, although we don’t say more than ten words to each other. I’m pretty sure she’s given up on me entirely as a human being, particularly after I brought home a leggy brunette as this evening’s dessert.

I screw the woman senseless, her cries echoing through every inch of my Parisian suite.

It means nothing. I feel nothing. Nothing except the anger raging through my body.

All I can see as I’m balls deep in this coke whore of a model is Lexi. The look on her face in that instant before I kissed her, the light in her eyes I mistakenly believed to be love.

And her kiss. God, Lexi tasted so good. I don’t kiss women on the mouth. But with Lexi, it was one of life’s greatest pleasures. The feel of her lips, the texture of her tongue as it slid against mine.

That kiss upended me, turning everything I thought I knew about women upside down. It wasn’t demanding, but Lexi claimed every cell of my soul with her gentle exploration.

Fuck her. I’m so damn mad at her. I had plans for us, plans that I knew were a long time coming. All those days and weeks and months of friendship, as her presence in my life became more vital than oxygen, all leading up to our mind-blowing kiss.

It was supposed to be the beginning of something amazing. I would have given her anything she wanted, no questions asked.

Turns out, she didn’t want me.

No, she flipped the switch on me, leaving without an explanation. Without any goodbye. All she gave me was a cryptic comment that I should figure it out, before clicking off from my life.

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