Jason made a fist and rammed it against the arm of his chair. His sister was right. He was a moron.
Sure, Leah had jumped to conclusions, but it was the exact same conclusion every other woman would have made, because he would have wanted them to. He’d spent his entire life making sure that women knew that he wasn’t a one-woman kind of guy.
It had been different with Leah, but how would she have known that?
He sure as fuck hadn’t told her.
Jason slumped back against his chair and swore softly as he tried to sort everything out. He dimly heard noises from the kitchen as his sister made what was apparently the most complex sandwich on the planet.
Heard a knock at the door, and his sister’s chipper “I’ve got it!”
He barely registered any of this until he heard Kathleen holler for him. “Damn it, Jason. Get your ass out here now!”
He was so deep in troubleshooting mode that it took him a second to register the urgency in his sister’s voice, and he was out of his chair in a heartbeat.
Only he moved too fast. His bad knee that was okay most of the time twisted, sending a shooting pain radiating down his leg. “Fuck,” he muttered, as he half ran, half limped out into the hallway. “What is it? You okay?”
Kathleen was staring at him wide-eyed. She pointed to the open doorway. “Go. Now.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Go!” she said, jumping a little in her urgency. “Don’t let her get away again!”
Her? Who was her?
It hit him then. A sickening sense of déjà vu.
Her was Leah.
Leah had come by. She’d wanted to see him.
The surge of joy was snuffed out almost immediately by the realization of what Leah would have seen. Not only was it another woman opening the door all over again. It was the same woman. Only this time, she was clearly pregnant.
“Christ, Kathleen,” he said as he lurched for the open doorway.
“Sure, sure, blame me again,” his sister said happily. “I won’t even care so long as you catch her this time!”
Jason was already out the door as his sister said all of this, but even as he took his first steps, he knew it was hopeless. He hadn’t been able to catch her last time, and that was without his knee hurting like hell.
And he sure as hell wasn’t holding out hope that Leah would pause for even a moment and give him a damn chance.
Ohmigod.
Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod.
How stupid could one woman be in the span of one calendar year?
Really stupid, apparently. Stupid enough to think that that night with Jason had meant as much to him as it had to her. Stupid enough to think that whatever unbreakable feelings she had for him might be mutual.
Leah had never been much of a runner, but she was running now. She’d never spent much time on the Jersey side, being a Brooklyn girl herself, but in the time she and Jason had been . . . doing whatever they were doing . . . she’d become familiar enough to make it to and from his place and the PATH station that took her back to New York.
It was all too familiar. The painful jiggle of her boobs thanks to the quickened motions of her feet and corresponding lack of a supportive sports bra. The awkward slap, slap, slap of her flip-flops as she risked tripping with every lurching step.
The gross, hiccupping sobs she was making.
A woman had answered the door. Not just any woman—the woman. The same freaking woman.
Granted, this time the brunette hadn’t been half-naked, but still. For all of Jason’s talk about how he didn’t do relationships, he was certainly doing something with the pretty brunette.
Seeing as how she was, you know, pregnant.
With Jason’s baby?
This time she did trip, barely catching herself as her arms flailed wildly. Oh God. Had he slept with her when he was going to be the father to that woman’s baby?
Leah started to run faster.
People were staring, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time there’d been a lovers’ spat of sorts in the tristate area, and it wouldn’t be the last. She didn’t care about any of that. She cared about getting home and trying to figure out how to piece together her pride. She cared about her dignity and . . .
Jason.
Leah’s pace slowed, and then slowed some more as the thought hit her hard.
She cared about Jason.
As in, all the way cared about him.
She loved him.
She loved him, and she’d dug deep to find the courage to come here today. To tell him that she wanted more than a fling, that she wanted . . . him.
And yet, she was running?
Again.
Without so much as seeing him or giving him the chance to explain.
That wasn’t love; it was immature cowardice.
Leah stopped as a surge of self-loathing overtook her. What was she doing?
The man she knew deserved better than this. The man she loved deserved a chance, at least, to explain.
And she deserved to hear whatever he had to say.
Even if it ripped her heart out.
Leah closed her eyes and took a deep breath before forcing herself to pivot on her heel.