Page 232 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Are you okay?” Isaac questions, his voice raspy.
I bite my bottom lip, concealing the smile attempting to tug it high before nodding. Those were the very first words he spoke to me after we head-butted at the airport. I was smitten with him from that very moment.
Sensing a shift in my composure, Isaac angles his head to the side and arches his brow. The thick cloud that’s been hanging over my head the past two weeks weakens when he questions, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
When he wiggles two fingers in the air, the broadest grin stretches across my face. “Two.”
His lips twitch like he’s preparing to speak, but before he can, Dr. Avery calls my name. She’s at the end of the hall, watching my exchange with Isaac with the same amused twinkle in her eyes Hugo has.
“I better go?” I don’t know why my statement comes out sounding like a question.
After smiling to thank Isaac for his assistance, I skirt past him. Excitement melds through me when his index finger briefly skims my arm on my way by, igniting every nerve in my body with the most meager touch.
Just before I walk into Dr. Avery’s office, I turn around for the quickest second, briefly catching a heart-stuttering smirk on a deliriously handsome face.
CHAPTER33
ISABELLE
Ithrow a pair of Nike running shoes at Hugo. “Come on. You shouldn’t have pinky-promised if you didn’t plan to follow through on your pledge.”
Air whistles between his teeth, winded from the shoes hitting him in the stomach. He’s sprawled on one of the sofas in Regan’s living room, eating junk food as he has since we arrived back from my appointment with Dr. Avery over three hours ago.
Today was my fifth session with Dr. Avery, but it was the first time our talk focused on my relationship with Isaac than my nightmares. I don’t know if that has more to do with my nightmares dampening as the weeks move on, or because she witnessed my interaction with Isaac and couldn’t help but pry. I’d say it was a combination of both.
When Hugo commences begrudgingly putting on his shoes, he mumbles, “I thought I was a guaranteed winner.”
Last night, Hugo blatantly stated Isaac would arrive at the club within twenty minutes of me hitting the dance floor to dance with other men. He said, “There’s no chance in hell Isaac will let another man near you, much less touch you.”
We bet on it. If I lost, I’d make Hugo breakfast every morning for a month. He requested the works—bacon, eggs, French toast, pancakes, and freshly squeezed orange juice, unaware I can’t cook to save my life. If Hugo lost, he agreed to come running with me every day for a month. He hasn’t stopped grumbling from the last time we went for a run, so it was the perfect punishment for him being so poorly wrong while also forcing me to start living again.
Hugo peeks up at me as he finishes tying his laces. “Can we at least jog past Harlow’s on the way back so I can replenish the calories I’m losing?”
Grinning, I nod. “It’s all about the right balance.”
When I race into the kitchen to throw my chewing gum into the bin, my brows stitch. There’sanotherempty canister of frosting at the bottom of the receptacle. I swear Regan is home, although I haven’t seen her since I walked in the door, so she could have left.
Upon noticing my curious glance, Hugo’s lips twist. “What?”
When he throws open the door, I jog to catch up to him. “Do you like frosting?”
Time slows to a snail’s pace when he answers my question with a brazen wink. His leisured pace to the elevator picks up, but it has nothing on the wide drop of my jaw. “I think we need to play that game of twenty questions again.”
My playful mood is squashed when I spot Clara mingling near the elevator banks. As always, she’s impeccably dressed in black knee-high boots and a Burberry full-length trench coat. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and her makeup is done in a seductive, alluring style. She looks like a sexy kitten about to go on the prowl.
When she spots my gawk, she smirks at me. It isn’t a friendly smile. It’s a conniving, vindictive grin that showcases her as the real bitch she is.
“We’ll wait for the next one,” Hugo tells Clara when the elevator arrives at our floor.
Snubbing my twisted heart, I step into the elevator car. I’m sick of playing Clara’s game. Harlow is right. It’s time for me to get as good as I am getting. If Clara is happy to leave our exchange without any words passing between us, I’ll follow suit. But if she doesn’t, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.
We don’t even make it three floors before Clara has my inner bitch awakening and ready to pounce. “I heard the gala you attended was an enormoussuccessfor all involved.” She doesn’t attempt to conceal her bitchy tone. “It’s always endearing when people unite to help the needy.”
“That’s enough, Clara.” Hugo’s snapped tone is a clear warning that I’m not the only one over Clara’s antics.
“It’s okay, Hugo,” I interject, stepping up to the plate. “What she said is true. It is wonderful when people come together to assist those less fortunate.”
Clara’s eyes glide down my body before her chin lifts high, apparently feeling superior. I can’t believe I ever stupidly thought she’d be the perfect partner for Isaac. He needs someone who will keep him grounded when everyone is determined to make him float away. He needs someone who will fight beside him when times get tough, not someone who cowers away during the hard times. Clara has lived her life with a silver spoon in her mouth. She doesn’t understand the struggles regular people go through, the ups and downs that make us better people, so she isn’t the right woman for Isaac. I am.
