Page 93 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
“Leave me alone, Daxton.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says as I walk beside her, attempting to keep her pace.
“Have you read my letter?”
“No.” Jordan presses the elevator button and turns away from me while waiting for the doors to open. “I told Mina to throw it in the trash.”
Fuck. I seriously hope that’s a lie. I can’t deal with another ten days of not hearing from her, or longer. The elevator doors open and Jordan steps inside. I act fast, joining her and hit the penthouse button.
ChapterForty-Eight
Jordan
The elevator doors shut, confining me with Daxton. The floor beneath me rocks slightly and we begin our ascent. With a groan, I turn my back to Daxton because the only way I can cope right now is to not see his face. There’s so much pain and longing in his eyes. I see love in them too, and if I meet his gaze, I know I’ll crumble and give in to him.
“You are intolerable, Daxton. I amnotentering your penthouse.”
“Please talk to me. You left the vineyard so quickly and haven’t spoken to me since.”
“I’m so angry at you, I don’t knowwhatto say.”
“Tell me all of those angry thoughts.”
His warm hand caresses my waist. I shove him away, shouting the loudest I ever have in my life. “I am humiliated!”
“Yes, scream at me. Hit me. I deserve it. Do whatever you need to do, just don’t shut me out.”
The elevator doors open at the penthouse level but my feet stay planted in their spot.
“Please, come inside with me. Let’s talk.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you.” I scowl at Daxton, my chest rising up and down with angered breaths. Right as the doors slide shut, Daxton sticks his hand out to keep them open.
“Do I really have to say this again? I’m not entering your penthouse.”
“Yeah, you are.” Before I have a chance to back away, Daxton grabs my waist and throws me over his shoulder, carrying me to his front door.
My skin buzzes with a treacherous excitement at the intimate way he handles me, like I’m still his girl regardless that we’ve broken up. A few minutes ago in the restaurant, Daxton called me his girlfriend, and despite my external frustration, I can’t deny the thrill than ran through me.
“Put me down this second!” I yell, kicking and banging my fists against his back.
He steps inside the penthouse and closes the door behind us, lowering me to the ground.
The living room is dark, lit by only the surrounding buildings, but there’s enough light to see Daxton clearly. As soon as I gain my bearings, my palms slam against his chest. “What iswrongwith you? Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry. We just… need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I shove Daxton’s chest again, so hard that this time he’s knocked off balance and takes a few steps backward, entering deeper into the living room.
His lips twitch and he has the nerve to smirk at me. That fucking smirk that I am obsessed with. A moment later, his gaze drops to my lips and I feel the heat of it in my clit. He likes this—whatever is happening between us right now—andthatrealization only deepens the pulse in my groin.
I step forward, shoving him again. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Youknowhow. I’mnotgoing to kiss you.”
