Page 35 of Like a Boss

“Oh, that’s nice to know.”

“No, fuck, I didn’t mean it that way.”

But I’ve heard enough, and vomit rises—literal vomit.

With a hand over my mouth, I run down the hallway, thankful when I find the bathroom not too far away. I throw up into the toilet, wishing I could purge this sickness within.

“Baylee.”

“Go away,” I groan with my head buried in the toilet.

When I hear his footsteps along the floor, I know he’s not going anywhere.

I feel a cool washcloth at the back of my neck, but as nice as it feels, I don’t want his kindness. It’s too late for that.

“I meant, if I could take back how we met, I would. But I don’t regret that we did. Audrey filed for divorce months ago, but I never signed the papers. I wanted to punish her and not give in. And when I found out what she did with your ex-boyfriend, I?—”

He sighs, appearing to find the right words.

“I needed to hurt her how she hurt me. But I never told her about us because the moment I met you, I knew it was… more. You’re the only woman to challenge me in every possible way. And although it drove me crazy, I liked it.”

I feel my cheeks heat, and that unwanted, familiar fire begins to smolder in my stomach. But no, he doesn’t get to do that.

Pushing him off me, I lift my head from the toilet, and when I see nothing but honesty reflected in his eyes, I realize he’s telling me the truth.

“How can I trust you?” I ask. “What you did, it’s unforgivable. You used me. Go back to yourwife, Mr. Fox. You deserve one another.”

“I’m not interested in her, and anyone else?—”

I don’t allow him to finish, as his statement cements what a huge asshole Mr. Fox really is. “Oh, you son of a bitch! I get it. No need to spell it out for me. I am just one of the many women you’ve probably fucked and forgotten all about. It’s my fault I actually thought you liked me.”

And then, there was silence, and I instantly regret my overshare. I need to leave.

Standing up, I ignore how the room spins and make my way toward the door.

“Baylee, please wait. Don’t go.”

But I am done with this man. With his games. With him screwing with my mind.

Just as I’m about to open the door, he says something which ends my resolve because they’re the words I’ve wanted to hear since the moment we met.

“I’m not interested in anyone, butyou. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to start again. I’d like you to see the real me.”

I can feel him at my back. My body responds to him in ways I don’t understand. I should hate him, but I don’t.

“I’m fucked up. I know that. But when I’m with you, I feel… like someone I want to be.”

My heart clenches at his words, but my brain is reminding me what he did.

“I can’t, Dylan. What you did?—”

“I know,” he replies, gently wrapping an arm around my waist. “I’ll spend however long it takes begging for forgiveness. Give me a chance. Please.”

I want to. I really do. But how can I trust him?

“I’ll see you at the office.”

“I quit,” I remind him, basking in his warmth.

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