Page 70 of And Then Came You

I tug at my hair, realizing just how badly I’ve screwed up. Not only did I storm about like some entitled prima donna, I’ve messed around with more women in the past several weeks than I can count.

All to get even with Lexi.

A woman who didn’t do a damn thing but react to my poor choices.

“I have to go,” I mutter, tossing a fifty on the bar and heading for my flat. My mind races, as I attempt to figure out how to crawl out of this hole I put myself in.

Figure out a way to get Lexi back.

I’m not even off the elevator when my phone rings. Likely my lineup for the evening.

Change of plans, ladies. Not happening tonight. Not happening, ever.

“Yeah, I can’t make it tonight,” I bark into the phone.

“Not a problem, considering I hadn’t invited you anywhere.”

Lexi.

I sag against the elevator wall, huffing out a breath. “E.T.”

“Why do you call me E.T.?”

I chuckle, aware that the elevator doors have opened and closed three times, waiting for me to disembark. Time to get my ass moving—in more ways than one.

I walk into my living room, flopping down on the couch. This woman is getting my undivided attention. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“I’m trying to find out, but you won’t tell me. How are you?”

Terrible. Lonely. Abysmal. They all seem fitting adjectives, but I choose the good old standard response. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Getting better.” Of course my girl answers honestly. “Your friend Mike is a tremendous photographer. I wouldn’t mention them, but his card said he sent you a copy as well.”

“He did. I got them tonight. He captured the moment perfectly. I’m surprised you didn’t set your copy on fire.”

“It crossed my mind as an option, but I couldn’t destroy them.”

I close my eyes, feeling the raw, emotional pain, even from thousands of miles away. “I’m glad you didn’t. I’m surprised you called me, after everything that happened.”

“Are you angry that I called?”

I hear the hesitancy in her voice and realize how much courage it took for her to call me after all she saw that night. All shethoughtshe saw. Time for me to take down the wall and let her know what really happened.

Then, about an hour of groveling, begging her to understand and forgive me for being such a moron.

“Lexi, I’ve missed you so much. Of course I’m not angry. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me anymore.”

“I didn’t, at first. I was really hurt and embarrassed—”

“Lex Lex, let me explain—”

But she isn’t letting me cut in. Not this time. “I need to say this. Please, Sam. I felt like such a fool, because I believed you. I believed I meant something to you.”

“You do.”

“Sam, if you say another word before I’m done, I’m hanging up the phone.”

I walk to the bar, pouring some whiskey. Looks like I’ll need it for this conversation.

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