Page 67 of Reclaiming Love

Chapter 37

“Thank you.” Melissa whispered to him as soon as he’d shut the door. She looked scared, and he needed to know why.

“Is he heading for a shower?” she asked, clutching the cell phone to her chest.

He nodded and she made to move towards the door. “Oh, no, you don’t.” He grabbed her elbow gently. He needed answers and he needed them right this minute.

Her frightened eyes met his. “I should go. I have to get out of here without him knowing, remember.”

He didn’t let go of her elbow. “In time,” he whispered, sensing her fear. “You owe me answers, Melissa.” She had to understand that none of this made any sense to him.

Slowly she backed away and walked to the far end of the room where she leaned against his desk. He locked the door—the guys respected one another’s privacy—but he could already see how frightened she was. Now he would find out why. For one mad moment, a dart of hope made him wonder if there was more to her and Matt than met the eye.

“How did you get in?”

“The other guy was leaving and I slipped in.”

“He saw you?”

She nodded.

Sighing, he asked her, “Do you want to sit down?”

When she declined, he moved his chair away from her, and sat down on it, facing her. This would be interesting.

“I’ve been looking for you at the coffee shop every morning this week,” she said quietly, not getting into the thick of it immediately. Still, the fact that this was the first thing she chose to mention lowered his guard a little. Because he’d deliberately avoided the coffee shop ever since that day.

“I’ve been avoiding it.”

“Avoiding me, you mean.”

“Avoiding you.” He leveled his gaze at her and observed that same air of vulnerability she always had about her. Try as he would not to, his eyes kept drawing back to her lips as his gaze swept over her features, reminding him of every inch of the face he’d kissed that night. He went to sleep remembering her face, her smell, feeling her fingers. . .

But he’d also convinced himself to wipe her from his memory. Yet something told him that maybe now there was a chance she could explain herself. That lurking behind that vulnerability he’d seen all too clearly, was the real reason for her sadness and it was only a matter of time before he unearthed it.

“I split up with him—that day—last week, when you first saw me here.”

He frowned. That wasn’t what Matt had told him. “Are you sure?” It was a stupid question, but he needed to check.

Her cheeks flamed red, and he regretted the question. “Of course I’m sure,” she said, still talking in a low voice. “But I can’t stay here any longer. I need to go before he finds out.”

He stared down at her top, and she looked down. Even underneath her coat, there was a distinct bulge. It was obvious she was hiding something.

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity uncontained.

She hesitated. “I can’t tell you.” She looked up at him. “Yet.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and got up from the chair. She exasperated him and made him feel for her at the same time. “Melissa, you’ve got to see it from my point of view. Everything that’s going on right now—with you—with Matt, this, that day, you and me, you and him—it doesn’t piece together.”

She covered up her chest, holding the edges of her coat closer together. “I know how this must seem. But I’m asking you to trust me. Please. I have to go now, before he finds out I’m here. Please don’t tell him I was here.” She was frantic.

He ran a hand over his forehead. “Okay. But I need to know. I need to know everything.”

“The coffee shop tomorrow morning?” she suggested.

“At eight?”

She nodded.

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