Page 64 of Mr. Misunderstood

“It took him a while to realize I didn’t use our friendship to further my place in New York society.” She spoons white rice on top of the curry dish. The smell of spices seems at odds with the sushi tray I selected from the take-out extravaganza.

“You’ve never used our friendship,” I say. “That’s all on me. I dragged you into this mess.”

She meets my gaze across the table. “I want to be here.”

“You wanted to marry Mr. Mistake too, and that was a clusterfuck in the end,” I say. And yeah, I’m probably going to regret those words. But the parallels can’t be ignored.

“True.” She turns her attention to her curry. “This is different.”

“Because of everything we’ve been through together?” I ask.

“I’m different this time.” She fills her spoon and then pauses before lifting it to her lips. “I know what’s important to me. You’re on that list. But image and status?”

“Doesn’t make the cut?”

“No.”

There’s an unmistakable hint of warning in her voice. I live and die by my public persona. If I’m not Gavin Black, New York’s most eligible bachelor and famous software designer, then I’m just a kid destined to live in the shadow of a traumatic childhood. Kayla knows that or she wouldn’t be here.

Still, she’s not going to lose herself to save me, and I would never ask her too. But I’m not sure where that leaves us.

CHAPTER 19

KAYLA

I’m pretty sure I just saw Gavin’s head explode. Possibly for the fourth time today. Although I’m not certain I should count walking into his office without my underwear as a mind-blowing moment for him. I felt a boom, but the sight of the explosion wasn’t anywhere near my head.

A good friend, or girlfriend, or whatever role I fill in his crazy life right now, would probably skip lunch and head straight to the bedroom. He could use a naked moment that leads to an orgasmic boom. Anything to distract him from the game of Russian roulette he’s playing with his emotions. If he’s not careful, he’ll load the wrong one into the chamber and spiral out of control.

He punched Jason in a crowded restaurant.

I raise the curry to my lips, but my gaze remains focused on Gavin. He’s already out of control. He just doesn’t realize it yet. I really should stop eating and take him to the bed. He needs the diversion.

“You never told me how it started.” Gavin swirls the chopsticks between his fingers. “You and Jason.”

I waited too long. He found his own distraction—my past. I sigh and set down my spoon. Then I reach for the Indian appetizer. I would have preferred sex. Instead, I get samosas and difficult conversation.

“We met at a party.” I take a bite savoring the mix of peas, potatoes, and pastry. I buy the frozen ones, but they’re not as good as the ones fresh from a talented Indian chef.

“Not how you met.” Gavin set down his chopsticks. “How it started to fall apart.”

He’s right. I’ve never shared that piece of my life with him. I

only let myself think about it when I’m walking through the woods, alone with my dogs.

I set the food aside. If I expect him to understand who I am now, he deserves to know everything. I love Gavin, but I won’t change who I am to be with him. I can’t do that for anyone.

“I woke up one day and realized I didn’t like who I was with him,” I say. “After Jason’s residency and fellowship, when he went into private practice and started to make a name for himself, that’s when it happened. I stopped teaching because it no longer made sense for me to work long days when he could earn my week’s pay in a day.”

“You loved teaching.”

“I did. But I also liked spending time with my dog and going to yoga in the middle of the afternoon. Instead of mandatory school events, we dined at the best restaurants in New York City.”

“The perfect life,” Gavin muses.

“Maybe for someone else, but not for me it turns out. Jason was, and still is, the dermatologist to the stars, and every other wealthy New Yorker,” I explain. “He built a reputation, and I … I faded until I wasn’t anyone.”

“You were always my best friend.”

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