“Ah. Got it. I had one of those myself.” He lifted the champagne flute again, but this time he tapped the finger where he wore his wedding ring indicating the courtship with his wife had been complicated.
“I think I’ve given you the wrong idea,” I said, dismayed by the conclusion he’d settled on. “Donovan and I are barely friends.”
“I get it, Sabrina.” But he was grinning like he had a secret. “Now go before he sees you.”
“Okay. Thanks, Tom.”
Still unsure about leaving my employee with the wrong impression, I hesitated a moment longer. Then I got my priorities straight and took off.
I hurried out, a woman with a mission, racing down the exposition hallway as fast as I could to get to the coatroom. Luckily, there was no one in line when I arrived, and I was able to present my ticket and get out of there quickly. But as soon as I turned around, I saw Donovan had also left the party.
He still hadn’t seen me, but there was no way that I could get out the main entrance of the hotel without crossing his path, so I slipped down a smaller corridor beyond the coatroom and discovered a side door. I pushed through the exit and found myself in an alleyway.
Perfect.
Except, once the door closed behind me, I realized how dark and narrow the alley was and immediately regretted the decision to come this way. I turned back and pulled on the handle of the door. It was locked. Of course.
I sighed, kicking myself for not having my Mace and looked in both directions, searching for the best way to get to a main street. Several garbage dumpsters lined the wall to one side of me, but the streetlight seemed to be out on the other side.
I started on the path past the dumpsters.
Something rattled along the pavement to my right—like the wind blowing a pop can or something inane, but it was eerie nonetheless. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and walked faster. More sounds behind me begged for my attention. The sound of a door? Footsteps? My imagination running wild?
I was too scared to look.
No, there was definitely someone behind me.
The steps got louder and nearer. I hurried my pace, but my heel caught on a crack in the gravel, and just as I started to go down, someone grabbed me at the waist.
I inhaled sharply, preparing to scream.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Donovan asked crudely before I could get sound out.
“Oh my god, it’s you.” I crumpled into his arms, relieved to find my stalker was someone familiar.
“But it might not have been,” he said, roughly. His grip on me was both warm and possessive. His fingers dug into my waist as though he’d had to lurch to reach me. Or as though he didn’t want to let go.
It felt good.
So good.
Then I remembered everything from the week. How he’d been a complete ass. How I’d vowed I was done with him.
“But it was you. So let me go.” I wriggled out of his grasp, missing him instantly.
“Seriously, Sabrina. What were you thinking coming out here alone? If you wanted to get raped, you could have just called me.” Even with the dark, teasing words, his delivery was a lecture.
“Actually, I couldn’t. Since you aren’t taking my calls or answering any of my texts. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll—” I started to turn away, but he grabbed my arm, digging his fingers into my skin painfully, even through the thick material of my coat.
“You aren’t going anywhere out here alone.” His eyes were black in the dimly lit alley, his tone final.
I yanked my arm away. After a week of avoidance, now he was going to give me his two cents? No fucking way. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He put his hands in his coat pockets and scoffed. “I don’t know about that. I have a pair of panties in my nightstand that says otherwise.”
I stared at him incredulously for half a beat. None of this was serious to him. This was just like college when he fucked with my grades for his own amusement. “You goddamn asshole, Donovan,” I seethed. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Don’t stick up for me at work.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re so angry. It’s making me need to fuck you.”
Fury bubbled up inside. Before I could think about what I was doing, my hand flew up to slap him.
He was too quick. He grabbed my forearm before I reached his cheek. A smile spread devilishly across his face. “Save it for the bedroom. I like it when you struggle.”
“This isn’t foreplay!” I pulled my hand free. “You can have your non-relationship rules, and I’ll follow them, but you don’t get to avoid me like I’m nothing and still expect me to walk into your arms the minute that you’re in the mood.”
“I don’t expect that at all. I’d much rather you crawl.”
There was nothing to say. He wasn’t listening. He never did, or when he did, he didn’t care. Words meant nothing to him. The only thing he cared about was his goddamned games.
With my eyes burning, I spun away from him once more.
“Sabrina, you’re not walking out here alone.” He followed right behind, but when he tried to reach for me, I snatched my hand away.
I heard him sigh. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”
“Like hell you weren’t,” I grumbled, pissed that he’d gotten me to engage. I kept walking though, only yards now from the street.
“I wasn’t exactly avoiding you. I had a major deadline this week. It required my full attention.”
I couldn’t help myself. As angry as I was, as done with him as I was, I couldn’t stop myself from reacting. That’s what he did to me—that’s what he always did to me—he made me feel.
I pivoted toward him. “Then you act like a decent person—remember how you said that’s what we both were? And you take ten seconds to explain that to me in a motherfucking text.”
Before he could say anything in response, I spun right back around to continue my advance to the road.
But this time Donovan caught me, wrapping both arms around me from behind. I struggled with determination, elbowing him sharply.
“Jesus Christ, Sabrina,” he exclaimed, tightening his grasp. “Stop!”
I wrestled for another several seconds then surrendered, hating myself for giving in so easily. But I was no match for his strength, and the longer he held me the more I loved the feel of his firm arms, and the way he pressed his body tight along my back, pressing his head next to mine.
“What?” I asked, broken. “What do you have to say?”
He exhaled, his breath warming my neck, his mouth right at my ear. “You distract me,” he said quietly, honestly. “If I spend any time around you, I can’t focus for days. You sent that picture of your pretty little cunt, and I couldn’t even look at my phone all week without getting hard. I avoided you because it was the only way I knew how to deal with you.”
I closed my eyes and let his words sink in, let them settle in between the facts I already had and the things I’d decided must be true and the things I wished were true and the things he’d said were true before, but I couldn’t get them to make a pattern that made sense.
I couldn’t get these words to mean what I was pretty sure he was saying and still exist with what he’d said in the past.