A few minutes later, she flung the door open, and whatever I’d been going to say got clogged in my throat.
I hadn’t seen her since Friday morning in class, and the effect of her took me by surprise.
She’d changed into a skimpy white tank top (no bra) and a pair of tiny flannel shorts. Her wavy hair was up in a messy bun with long strands curling around her face. And was that a nipple piercing poking through her shirt? Hell, yes.
My body hummed. I tucked my hands in my pockets—just needing something to do with them because part of me wanted to . . .
“What were you doing with Bart?” I said, keeping my voice cool. I held it together well considering we’d made a deal for five thousand dollars and the check was in my back pocket.
Her hand went to her hip. “What happened to hello and may I come in?”
My lips flattened. “Guess I’m not up for pleasantries.”
She paused, a little wrinkle on her brow, and shook her head as if to clear it. “Wait. Are you jealous?”
“No.” My arms crossed. “He was a complete dick in class on Monday and now you’re in a car with him. I’m annoyed as fuck. Plus you’re dating me. If people see you with him, I look ridiculous. Been there already with Bianca. If you wanted to screw your ex on the side, you should have been upfront with me.”
Her eyes flashed. “You don’t understand. I can explain—”
“No lies.”
Her head tilted. “Bianca really did a number on you, didn’t she?”
“I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s called empathy.” She propped herself against the doorjamb just enough to show me a little bit more thigh. I tore my eyes away. “You never told me why you broke up. I mean I know you had a crazy relationship and—”
My jaw tightened. Just thinking about her reminded me that I didn’t need to get involved with anyone. “We broke up because she wanted me to propose after we’d been together for eight months. She told me she was pregnant—but when I asked her to go to a doctor and she refused—I knew something was up. She finally admitted she’d lied to me, and when I broke it off, she reacted by trying to make me jealous. She screwed some of the players who weren’t really my friends. She wanted to hurt me or maybe she thought I’d come running back—but I didn’t. Maybe she cared about me; maybe she didn’t. Either way, it left a bad taste in my mouth.”
Her expression softened. “She’s not the one for you.”
“Are you?”
She straightened. “What do you mean?”
“Are you the one for me?”
A few ticks of silence passed. Her chest rose as she sucked in a breath.
“I’m kidding. Jesus, did you believe me?”
She swallowed, looking away from my eyes. “No, of course not.”
What the fuck was wrong with me? I raked both hands through my hair. I was completely off. And being an asshole. “Back to Bart—explain it to me.”
She nodded stiffly. “Fine. Since you asked so nicely. I called an Uber to get me home from the library and the driver never showed. Then my phone died, so if the driver called, I missed it. Everyone at work had already left, so I was stuck and decided to walk home. Some of those streets close to campus are iffy—there was a mugging there last month. Bart happened to drive by, saw me, and stopped. At first, I told him to go on, but he—he begged me. I was desperate to get home and just crash. It was just a ride home.”
He’d begged her.
What a piece of shit manipulator. Had he been following her from work? I honestly didn’t put much past him if he wanted her back. There was only one thing to do, and I should have done it earlier.
I dug around in my pockets, pulled out my keychain, removed my Land Cruiser key, and pressed it in her hand. “Here, this is yours to keep. I have an extra at the house. You drive my car until we get this straightened out.”
She stared at the key with wonder. “But, but what will you drive?”
“My Harley—or I’ll catch a ride with Tate. Whatever. I can’t have you walking home in the dark, and I don’t want you riding in the same car as Bart—or with some Uber driver.”
“Oh.”
“Did he try to get you back?” I wanted to know every single word he’d said to her—which was crazy.
“Not really your business,” she said.
I propped my arm up on the door and leaned in until our faces were close. She smelled like heaven. “I have a check for you in my back pocket that makes it my business,” I said softly, my eyes landing on those heart-shaped lips.
She smirked. “Your macho slash sexy stance doesn’t faze me, Quarterback, but if you must know, he was just worried about me being out alone. Yes, he wanted to bring up the past, but I didn’t.”
“You said I was sexy.” My lids lowered.
She blinked, nibbled on her bottom lip—and changed the topic. “Do you want to come in? It’s not the Ritz, but it’s definitely different. I’ll introduce you to Charlie?”
I perked up. I needed anything to distract me from how much I wanted to screw my fake girlfriend. “You have a dog or a cat?”