Page 49 of Heated
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “Anyway, I can’t go there again, and I’ve made that abundantly clear to Jordan. Contrary to recent events, I don’t do athletes.” Her mouth flattens, and her brown eyes harden into shards of flint. Yes, I remember very well why she doesn’t do athletes, which is why I was so shocked when she agreed to give Jordan her phone numberin the first place. “But he’s a nice guy, and I’d like to be friends. If he can’t accept that, then ...”
She shrugs, but I catch the flash of pain in her gaze.
“He’ll accept it.” I squeeze her knee. “Something tells me he’d rather have you as a friend than nothing at all.”
She shrugs a shoulder, but I’ve been my sister’s protector since she was born, and I know her inside and out. This relationship matters.
“Anyway, turf burn with Jordan is not why I’m in here.” Okay.Ew.“You lied, Liar McLiarson.” She jabs a finger toward my chest. “Imagine my surprise when Jordan casually drops that you and Cyrus are hanging out at his house, all cozied up. Good thing I’m a fabulous liar myself or I wouldn’t have been able to cover my shock.”
I snort. “Well, thank God for small favors.”
“Damn straight. What happened? I thought we agreed you continuing to see him wasn’t a good idea.”
“We did.” I rub a hand over the nape of my neck. “But it got a little more complicated, where I couldn’t just walk away.”
I tell her about my arrangement with Cyrus. Everything, leaving nothing out. Not even the conversation from the restaurant today. That’s the thing about Miriam. There isn’t anything too out there, too off the wall, for her to accept. She listens with a thoughtful frown, and when I finish, she thrusts her hands through her hair, drawing the curls back from her face.
“Wow. That’s some shit.”
Why, yes. Yes, it is.
“So basically, you’re going along with this whole fake relationship thing and going on this corporate retreat because of your pesky conscience and the chance that his ex, our client, might discover you’ve been making time with her ex. Which makes you—and our company, by extension—look shady as hell. And this Valerie Summers doesn’t sound like the reasonable or forgiving type if she believes she’s been played. Do I have all the facts?”
I nod. “Basically.”
She holds up a finger. “Okay, first things first. After your months of relationship-itude are up, what is your endgame? Are you going to just walk out of his life, and he’s going to disappear from yours? You never plan to reveal the truth about BURNED to him? You do realize the longer you keep this from him, the angrier and more betrayed he’s going to feel when the truth comes out, right?”
Mimicking her earlier gesture, I burrow my hands through my hair, gripping the strands.
“Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? A lot? I don’t have those answers. But he and I ... we don’t belong in the same worlds. If not for Valerie Summers, our paths would’ve never had any reason to cross. And I don’t see why, after our bargain is up, we can’t return to normal. We won’t have any reason to talk, to be in each other’s lives anymore.”
Miriam snorts. “Keep telling yourself that if it helps you get through these next few months.” She peers at me, and it’s unnervingly ... kind. “Zora, this isn’t going to end well. Regardless of how much you protest, you’re more invested in Cyrus Hart than you want to admit. Somewhere along the line he became more than a client’s ex and a pseudo boyfriend. And when the shit hits the fan—because, babe, it has no choice but to hit the fan—you’re going to end up hurt. And I hate that for you.”
My chest tightens with each foreboding word that falls from her lips. Dread twists inside me, and I briefly close my eyes. She isn’t saying anything that hasn’t whispered through my head in the deepest, darkest part of night when work, clients, or people aren’t there to distract me from my thoughts.
During those hours, when I close my eyes, I can’t help but see Cyrus’s face when he discovers the truth. And it’s cold. So cold with anger, with ... hatred.
No lies, Zora. Don’t lie to me.
And that’s what I fear as much as the threat to BURNED, to Miriam’s and Levi’s investments and livelihoods. I’m terrified of seeing that loathing in his eyes. Terrified of knowing that he despises me.
I can justify my reasons for not telling Cyrus the truth, but it doesn’t change that I’m lying to him. And he’ll never forgive me for it.
I’m a coward when it comes to him.
“You think that’s why you dumped your shit on him at lunch about his people not possibly believing he could want you?” she softly asks. “Because you do know that going off on him was about you, not him, right?”
“I didn’t go off on him.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Just ’cause it was nice nasty doesn’t make it any less of a read, ma’am.”
Guilt buzzes in my belly like a swarm of angry bees. “Doesn’t make it any less true, though. We don’t make sense together. I know it. He knows it. His colleagues will know it. The more I think about it, this thing is ridiculous.”
“You’re projecting. And like I said, that’s your shit, not his.”
“Miriam, he couldn’t even answer about being with a woman like me before. Why? Because he never has. So it beingmyshit doesn’t negate the fact that I’m right.”
“And what exactly do you mean by ‘a woman like me’? Black? Thick? Natural hair?Buffyfan?” She shrugs. “So what if he hasn’t? I’ve never dated a half-human, half-Atlantean with a predilection for beer and a chip on his shoulder, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give him a try. Now, I’m not saying you don’t love yourself or aren’t proud of who you are, because I know you better than that. But Iamsaying there’s something in here”—she twirls her fingers in a tight circle over my heart—“you need to clean up if you believe that man couldn’t possibly be attracted to you because what? He’s too pretty? Too rich? Too successful? Too ... white? I gotta say, Zora. That day in the parking lot, from the way he couldn’t take his eyes off your ass, it didn’t seem likehe gave a fuck about your tax bracket. So maybe, just maybe, it could be he doesn’t have the issue, butyoudo.”
