Page 14 of Beyond Question

“Ouch.”

She smiles and I fall in love, then she nods toward the building behind me. “Do you think they’ll let the riffraff in to use the restroom here?”

I scoff. “We’re far from riffraff. Come on.” I slip my hand into hers and we both freeze, then I drop my gaze to our linked hands and wonder at the way it feels so natural to touch her. Lifting my gaze to her eyes, I ask, “Is this okay?”

After a brief hesitation that lodges my heart into my esophagus, Paige nods, and I lead her inside, stopping only briefly to speak to the concierge before leading her down the corridor to the restrooms. She slips inside the ladies’ room and I pull out my phone, scrambling to find a way to fix this fuck up.

I have no idea whatthe next placewill be and I have limited time to figure it out, so I shoot off a quick text to my assistant and pray for a miracle.

“Travis?” A woman’s voice draws my attention away from my phone and I look up as a knockout blonde strides toward me. She’s dressed in a scrap of hot pink satin and sky-high heels and I can’t for the life of me remember her name. Emma or Elsa or—

“I thought that was you.” She slips her arms around me and plasters her body along the length of mine. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” I say, as I try to extricate myself from her grasp without hurting her feelings.

But she frowns as I sidestep, so I obviously failed.

Her gaze flicks to the door of the women’s restroom, then back to me, realization dawning in her big doe eyes. “Are you…herewith someone?” Her tone is one of disbelief, and, frankly, I deserve that.

I’m more of an end of the night, see who’s left at the bar, kind of guy. It’s easier that way. Women know what to expect that way. Anything more and they start getting ideas in their head, which, with me, is a one-way ticket to Brokenheartsville.

“I am,” I admit, then quickly add, “here with someone,” just to be sure my point is clear.

Please take the hint.Best-case scenario, Emma or Elsa leaves before Paige returns.

Worst-case scenario—

The door opens and we both turn our heads as Paige exits the restroom.

Oh, look, here I am in the worst-case scenario.

Her eyes land on the blonde and I watch in horror as she takes her in, then swivels toward me, the thoughts so clear on her face she might as well be a billboard in Times Square.

In one quick sweep of her gaze, Paige has read the situation and assumed the worst. Which is fair; wehavefucked and sheishalf my age. At least.

“Hi,” the blonde says as she steps closer to Paige, because she clearly cannot read the room—or hates me for never calling her after our night together and wants me to suffer. “I’m Alessa.”

Elsa, Alessa… same thing.

“Paige,” she says, shaking the woman’s hand. But then she turns those icy blue eyes toward me. “I think I should probably get going.”

Fat fucking chance.Reaching for her hand, I slip it free of Alessa’s and smile as I pull Paige toward me. “If you’ll excuse us, we have a date to get to.” Leaving the blonde standing in the hallway with a shocked expression that should probably offendme—if I was someone who gave a damn—I pull Paige against me, drape my arm over her shoulder, and lead her toward the exit.

“This is not a date,” she practically growls.

“It’s also not a marathon, but here you are trying to run again.”

“Travis—”

“Stop running, Paige.”

She’s tense for a moment longer, but then she sighs and relaxes into my embrace. We reach the door, then step out onto the street, and I keep my arm around her as I hail a cab with the other one. “You said you’d give me another chance.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, so I look down into her eyes.

She opens her mouth, then closes it. After a beat, she says, “You’re right. I did.”

“Good.” As a cab rolls to a stop at the curb in front of us, I squeeze her shoulder. “I’m not going to waste it.”

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