Page 138 of Waiting Game

“That’s fucked up.”

“I agree.” I take another deep sip of whiskey. “Don’t think I misunderstand your devotion to this place. You’re lucky, in fact. Because Idoget it. I get it too well.

“But that’s why I’m telling you this now. You can be mad at me and feel as if I lied to you, and then we can get over this because wewillget over this hump.

“Just like I’ve gotta tell a woman who’s practically my sister that I’m falling for the woman who betrayed her.” I tip up my chin and lock my eyes on hers. “Some stories start hella complicated?—”

“This isn’t a book.” For the first time, she sounds angry.

“Maybe it isn’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a HEA.”

“A HE-what?”

I grunt. “I need to get you reading my shit, Mia. You need to know this stuff. I mean, we’re not third-act breakupping this. No fucking way.”

“What does that even mean?” She rubs at her temple. “I’m…”

“Don’t pretend that you’re annoyed with me.”

Her temper flickers to life right in front of me. This is the only kind of fire I don’t hate. “Don’t you dare tell me how I should feel.”

I hide a smile. “We can keep up the cam-girl stuff.”

“You’re digging your own grave here. The second we were dating, you should have shut the whole thing down!”

“I kinda liked talking to you twice a day. Mostly, I felt shitty for lying to you about who I was and for hiding this stuff from Gracie, but at least I can jack off in peace tomorrow—”Plus,how else could I keep paying her?

“We’re not doing that again,” she shrieks.

“Shame. I really will miss it.”

Her glower would terrify any normal man. But I’ve spent too much of my life with Gracie Bukowski. Not that I tell Mia that. That’d be encouraging her to up her glower game and no man’d be that much of a fool.

“I think I need some space.”

Though I want to argue with her, I don’t. She probably does need space.

I ponder what a hero in one of my books would do. Some would turn into a caveman and haul her over their shoulder and kiss her until she forgot her own name. But then, there are some who’d give her space.

I know she deserves it—I heaped a whole lot of crazy at her feet.

Because I don’t know what my next move should be, I just stare at her.

She stares at me too.

Apparently, that works because she stomps her foot. “Stop looking at me like that.”

I shrug. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like you fucking love me,” she screams, then she covers her face. “How the fuck can you love me? You barely know me. Oh, my god, this is insane. This is… You’re batshit. Absolutely batshit.”

“Maybe I’m fucking nuts for you.”

“Why aren’t you… I don’t get it. We… You…”

“I had time to get to know you, Mia. Time that you didn’t have in return. I know that’s unfair and I don’t expect you to love me back yet?—”

“So generous,” she growls, more of that temper sparking in her eyes.

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