Page 99 of Sweet Escape

But my thoughts about Memphis and returning to Rosewood stay with me long after I’ve left the studio.

Of course part of me wants to go back to Rosewood. Of course part of me wants to see Memphis. Listen to the warm cadence of his voice and feel him hot and hard underneath me. Hold him tightly in my arms and hear the deep rumble of his laugh.

It would be foolish of me to pretend otherwise.

I pour a glass of wine, sink into my couch, and stare out to where the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

But it’s unrealistic.

My life is here.

His life is there.

And that’s not going to change.

A knock on my door surprises me. Normally guests have to call up through the buzz-in. When I look through the peephole and spot Theo on the other side, my nostrils flare.

“What are you doing here?” I growl as I yank the door open. “All your shit is gone.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says stepping in past me without an invitation. “But there were a few things missing that I’m here to collect.”

I roll my eyes and wave my hand toward the living room. “Take whatever you want, Theo.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Vivian. I’m not here to rob you. I just want my Armani suit and the bottle of Macallan.”

“I don’t have your Armani suit.”

“Yes, you do. It’s in the dry cleaning from after that dinner at Nobu.”

I walk into my closet and tug out the dry cleaning, seeing that he is, in fact, correct. His Armani suit and two dress shirts are tucked into the clear plastic alongside my pale-green dress. I pull out my dress and hang it back in the closet, then take the rest of the items out to where he’s still standing in the entry.

“Is that all?”

“And the Macallan.”

“A bottle of whiskey? That’s important enough to come back for? Really?”

He shrugs and gives me that stupid smile. “It’s good whiskey.”

I grab it from the liquor cabinet and hand it to him, but when he reaches for it, I pull it back.

“Are you really going to never actually apologize?” I ask, suddenly overwhelmed with the righteous belief that I deserve an apology.

Not that it would change anything. But just because it feels ... right. Like it might provide some sort of closure.

“I apologized when I came to Rosewood.”

“That was a bullshit apology and you know it. You were only there to say whatever you thought would get you what you wanted.”

“Why should I apologize, Vi?” he asks, chucking the dry cleaning over the couch and tucking his hands in his pockets, his posture easy even though his attitude is beginning to shine through.

“Because you slept with Amelia! Because you betrayed my trust and ruined our relationship.”

He shakes his head. “You were checked out of our relationship months before it ended.”

Crossing my arms, I glare at him. “You don’t get to point the finger at me, as if I’m the one to blame for the fact you couldn’t keep it in your pants,” I volley back.

“Look, I cheated. It was a shit thing to do. And yeah, maybe I’m an asshole for it. But you act like you played no part in our relationship fizzling out. Which is bullshit. Fuck, sometimes I wonder if you ever even really wanted to date me in the first place.”

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