Page 57 of Resisting Her Playboy Boss

‘I think that would be the best thing for me, yeah.’ Her toes curled and her skin goosebumped in revulsion at the thought of it. But itwasthe best thing. Ruben didn’t want her beyond an occasional bed buddy and she didn’t want to be mooning over him for the next millennia. She had to be kind to herself and cruel at the same time, because sending him away was hard.

‘You’re not even going to say this to my face?’

‘Nope. I’m doing it over the phone. You’re lucky it wasn’t a text. It nearly was.’

His mere presence was enough to tempt her. One smile enough to keep her hope afloat for weeks. She wanted to falloutof love with him. The cold turkey approach was the only way that could possibly work.

‘Is this because I missed the show?’

‘Oh, wow, you think?’ Yeah, she’d just lost her grip on cool and capable.

‘Ellie—’

‘You don’t have to explain it. I understand. You don’t care for me.’

Silence. Then he got snappy right back at her. ‘Our “friendship” isn’t a one-way street, Ellie. You haven’t been the best of friends to me either, you know.’

Well, that wasn’t fair. But she was too hurt to argue.

The last thing she wanted to face was the fact that she loved his calls, loved hearing his tales. She got more than he did from this and she wanted more still. ‘I don’t think we were ever truly friends, Ruben. I think all those movies are right—men and women can’t do platonic friendship. Let’s call it a day, okay?’

She jabbed the end-call button, furiously blinking back the sting of rejection.

Someone instantly started hammering down her front door. She swiped the trickles from her cheeks and stormed the stairs. The door was rattling in the frame. She yanked it open. ‘You were outside all this time?’

‘I’ve had enough of the phone call rubbish.’ He barged in, plucking her phone from her hand as he pushed past and flinging it across the room. His went with it.

Stunned, she watched them smash on the floor. ‘You’ve probably broken both of them!’

‘Good. So we’re forced to speak face to face.’

She turned back and stared at him. For the second time that night her knees went completely weak. ‘What the hell happened?’

‘Car crash.’

Her lungs then failed too. ‘You’re kidding,’ she wheezed.

‘No. On the way to the airport the night of your awards.’

Thatwas why he hadn’t turned up? That was four days ago.

‘And you’re still this bruised?’

He lookedawful.Not even the jeans and the favourite ‘Lucky’ shirt could lift his near death-mask look.

‘Why didn’t you try to get in touch with me?’ She was so shocked she shouted.

‘When I regained consciousness the next day I did try. Just went to your answerphone.’

Oh, now she felt terrible. He’d had an accident—a horrible accident that could have been so much worse. And she hadn’t been there for him. He’d been alone and abandoned again. That just broke her heart. But how was she to have known if he didn’t tell her?

Ruben had decided on the trip down that he was going to fight hard—and dirty. No matter how, he was winning this woman.

‘Friends are supposed to look out for each other,’ he snapped, belligerent. Mad with himself as much as he was with her. ‘Why didn’t you call me to see where I was?’

‘I sent you a text,’ she snapped, equally defensive.

‘One.’ His hurt spilled. ‘You never followed up. You never called that night or the next day. If we were such great friends how could you walk away so easily?’ He breathed in and it hurt. Every breath hurt.

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