Prologue
Lena
Four years ago
I was dressed to the nines. I had worn my favorite little black dress and strappy red heels—my friend Hannah called them my “fuck me shoes.” She wasn’t wrong. I knew they made my already long legs look even longer. And the Spanx I had squeezed myself into using a considerable amount of lotion and holding my breath—made my curves look downright delicious.
I didn’t need male attention to tell me what I already knew—I was damn hot.
My long, dark hair was particularly shiny, and I liked the way it felt trailing down my back. Jenna, my college roommate and all-around neurotic, had done my makeup complete with a smoky eye and glam-red lipstick.
I loved getting dolled up. I liked feeling gorgeous and desirable. And tonight, I was feeling a good dose of both.
“Come on, Lena, couldn’t you have dressed a little more—I don’t know—conservatively?” my older brother Adam groaned when I arrived at the swank party he and his partners were throwing to commemorate the opening of their brand new law firm.
They had rented out the ballroom at The Dandelion Hotel. Our hometown of Southport, Pennsylvania, had few options when it came to putting on fancy events. The Dandelion Hotel was it. But whoever Adam had hired to put the shindig together had done a great job. The room was filled with flowers and tiny twinkling lights. A small band played in the corner, rocking out jazzy tunes that were both upbeat and unobtrusive. The food was on point. I grabbed another crab puff from a platter being carried by a bow tie wearing waiter.
This whole thing was definitely out of my league. As a senior at Penn State, I was more used to a keg party at a frat house than sipping champagne and caviar but I was comfortable in both situations. I could party like a rock star but also hobnob with the best of them.
I popped the puff in my mouth and looked down at my skintight dress. “I look great.” I shrugged and flipped my hair over my shoulder indifferently. Adam wasn’t exactly a prude and he was far from conservative. You only had to look at his hoochie wife to see he didn’t exactly have a problem with women showing skin. I knew of more than a few skeletons in his buttoned-up closet. But he was my brother and I suppose in his mind that meant he had the right to be a giant pain in my ass.
“I think Mr. Jessop’s eyes are about to pop out of his head, and Mrs. Jessop looks ready to murder him.” Adam’s expression was decidedly sour. He had always been overprotective. Annoyingly so. He was seven years older than me and he seemed to think that gave him permission to try and dictate my life from the guys I dated to apparently the clothes I wore. He needed to get a grip. I was well past needing anyone to protect me.
I put a hand on my brother’s arm reassuringly. “Mr. Jessop is an old perv. Everyone knows he only goes to Jessie’s Diner because of the short skirts the waitresses wear. And if Mrs. Jessop finally offs the dirty bastard, then maybe you’ll get a new client. After all, someone will have to get her out of trouble.” I picked up a champagne flute and downed half the contents in one go. If the college had taught me anything, it was how to drink like a champ. I often put the frat guys to shame.
“Mom, tell her.” Adam appealed to our mother, who was chatting with her best friend, June Galloway over blinis.
Mom waved away his comment. “Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, Adam. Your sister is a beautiful young woman. Don’t be so archaic.”
I gave Adam a Cheshire Cat grin and finished off the champagne, immediately grabbing another glass. Adam intercepted me and took the flute from my hand. “Seriously, slow down Lena. This isn’t a Phi Kappa whatever party. This is an important night for me, hold it together.”
Adam was such a buzz kill.
“I turn twenty-two in a month. You’re worse than Dad. Actually, Dad wouldn’t be so uptight.” I wiped my fingers on a napkin and balled it up in my hand, wishing I could throw it in Adam’s face. I loved my brother, but he also annoyed the shit out of me.
I glanced across the room to where Adam’s bitchface wife, Chelsea stood wearing the skimpiest dress I had ever seen. Thin strips of silver material crisscrossed her body, barely covering up anything. And Adam was giving me hell about my choice of wardrobe?
She was talking to a man I didn’t know. I saw her put her hand on the man’s arm and leave it there. She tossed her head back and laughed at something the man said, her long blonde hair smooth and perfect. If I didn’t hate her so much, I’d appreciate how smokin’ hot she was. Chelsea Sloane was hands down, the best-looking woman in the room—excluding me, of course.
It seemed she was putting it on thick. Chelsea flirted like some people breathed—constantly. I detested how she so effortlessly pulled the wool over Adam’s eyes though sometimes I wondered if he was as oblivious as he acted. There was no way he hadn’t heard the rumors about her and some guy from the country club. Apparently, when she was supposed to be working on her backhand, the tennis instructor was just working her over. It was so cliched.
I could see the tightening of his jaw and his smile was brittle as his wife looped arms with the man and all but dragged him across the room to where we were standing.
My eyes homed in on the man instantly. I’d have to be dead or unconscious not to feel a twinge in my lady bits at the sight of his full lips, dazzling blue eyes, and broad, muscular shoulders. I almost understood why my whore-faced sister-in-law was practically salivating. This man was the most gorgeous specimen of masculinity I had ever encountered.
Chelsea was pressed against him, her perky breasts rubbing against his arm. She was definitely doing that on purpose. I watched with satisfaction as the man extracted himself from her grasp, moving to stand on the other side of Adam. Chelsea’s demeanor cooled instantly, clearly affronted at the rejection. She rebounded quickly though, snaking her arms around Adam like a boa constrictor. He gave her a perfunctory kiss on the mouth that was like watching someone kiss their grandma. I wasn’t imagining the way Adam seemed to recoil at her touch. Maybe he was finally seeing the light. Chelsea was like a giant genital wart in the middle of my otherwise awesome family.
The man greeted Adam with an obnoxious dude half-hug handshake. Why did guys do that? It never failed to look completely awkward.
I tried not to stare. It was hard because he was that good looking. He scraped a hand through his thick hair. Was that natural? Was he wearing product? It was like something out of a shampoo commercial.
He smiled at my brother in genial familiarity. Whoever he was, my brother liked him. And the feeling was clearly mutual. Chelsea had been firmly relegated to background noise, which is where she belonged. They talked about some sports game that I didn’t care about so didn’t bother listening.
My mind had started to wander when his eyes zeroed in on me. I felt as if I were caught in a laser beam. I noticed the way his gaze started at my feet and traveled up my legs, lingering there for a while before lazily making his way up to my face. I felt my skin heat under his scrutiny, and I wanted to preen like a peacock. I could tell he appreciated what he saw.
Our eyes met and clung for a heartbeat too long to be casual. There was a zing of instant attraction that I knew I wasn’t imagining.
Damn, he was a fine piece of man.
I licked my lips. Partly because they were suddenly dry and partly because it drew attention to my mouth. I had spent a lot of money on the shiny red gloss and I was going to make the most of it.
The man held out his hand in my direction. “I’m Jeremy Wyatt. And you are—?”
Jeremy Wyatt. One of Adam’s new partners. I had heard the name enough over the past year to know him intimately, even if this was the first time we actually met.
Adam moved away from Chelsea, turning his back slightly—god, I hoped that was on purpose—and put a hand on my shoulder. “Jer, this is my baby sister, Marlena.”
“Lena,” I corrected with a twinge of irritation. I hated it when people used my full name. It grated my very soul. “And I’m not exactly a baby anymore, Adam.”
Jeremy Wyatt’s fantastic blue eyes heated. “No, you’re definitely not,” he all but purred.
“Lena is in her senior year at Penn State, but she’s applied to law school for the fall,” Adam added, and I could hear the pride in his voice. I felt a glow of love for my big brother. He could be incredibly overbearing and extremely overprotective, but I knew he loved me and was proud of me and that meant more than anything.
Jeremy raised one lovely eyebrow. “Ah, the ole’ alma mater. If you need a good word, let me know. I have a lot of contacts at Penn Law.”
“As do I,” Adam interjected. I sensed a long-standing rivalry between the two; an air of competition that practically sizzled.
Jeremy chuckled. A low, rich sound that made my insides flutter. “No one’s disputing your connections, Ducate.”
Adam grinned, clearly used to Jeremy’s banter.
“Adam mentioned that you went to law school together, I hadn’t realized you received your undergrad from there as well,” I said.
Jeremy motioned for a waitress and ordered a scotch on the rocks. He turned to me. “Do you want anything?”
Adam glared at me and I glared back, but I figured I wouldn’t push his buttons—too much. “Thanks, I’m fine,” I answered.
Jeremy gave me his attention again. “I transferred there in my sophomore year from William and Mary. I wasn’t feeling the south. Too many churches for my liking. I kept feeling as if I was one bad choice away from becoming a pillar of salt,” he chuckled.
I laughed too as if we were sharing something.
“So, if you’re pre-law, is Professor Reed still teaching Constitutional Law?” Jeremy asked me just as the waitress brought him his drink. The woman handed it to him, and I noticed how she made a point to brush her hand against his. He gave her his thousand-watt smile and she practically melted into the floor.
I hear ya, sister. I really do.
“She sure is. And yes, she’s still the hardest teacher there. I barely passed with a B.”
Jeremy laughed. “A ‘B’? That’s unheard of for a Reed class. You must be some kind of savant.” His regard made me feel warm all over.
Adam patted me my shoulder like I was a little kid. I wanted to kick him. “That’s our Lena, the family genius.”
“I’m not a genius. Okay, maybe a little bit of a genius,” I jokingly protested.
Jeremy’s eyes sparkled. They literally sparkled. “I love a woman that doesn’t hide her intelligence.”
Oh yeah, he was so into me.
“Do you know what kind of law you plan to focus on?” Jeremy asked, his eyes holding me captive. I could smell the musky scent of his cologne. Nothing overpowering, but it was spicy and kind of smoky, and sexy as hell.
“I—uh—well…” It seemed Jeremy Wyatt had short-circuited my brain. Because honestly, all I could think about was kissing his full, utterly sensual lips.
Adam came to my rescue. “She’s interested in environmental law. Our Lena is a crusader. This is a girl who campaigned to save the sea turtles at six. Her lemonade stand was a huge success.” He said it with all the pride and admiration of a doting older brother. I didn’t know whether to be touched or to crawl under the nearest rock.
“Aww, a lemonade stand. How adorable,” Chelsea drolled, clearly annoyed she wasn’t the center of attention. She positioned her well-proportioned body so that she stood slightly in front of me, blocking Jeremy’s gaze. “Did Adam mention my charity idea?”
I saw my brother cringe slightly. “Come on, Chelsea. Let’s not start talking shop—”
Jeremy picked up on Adam’s discomfort and decided to mow right over the top of it. He cocked his head to the side as if riveted. “Please, Chelsea, tell me about your charity idea.” He met my eyes over her shoulder and gave me a sly wink. I grinned, realizing he was fucking with my obnoxious sister-in-law.
Chelsea flicked her hair over her shoulder and pushed her breasts out. “It’s called Panties for Puppies.”
I choked on the champagne I had just taken a sip of. Chelsea and Adam gave me a mirrored look of annoyance. Jeremy, moving around Chelsea, came to stand beside me and patted me on the back. “You okay?” His lips were quirking as he tried to hold in a smile.
I held up my hand. “I’m fine. Sorry. It went down the wrong hole. Please, go on Chelsea.”
Chelsea didn’t acknowledge me at all. She treated me as if I weren’t there, which was nothing unusual. She had spent most of our acquaintance acting as if she couldn’t see me. Unfortunately for Jeremy she definitely saw him and had decided to squeeze him in her succubus grip. “Women donate their old bras and underwear and the money goes towards like, animal shelters or something. Everyone wants to help cute little dogs.”
Adam looked as if he wanted to die. “I’ve told Chelsea the concept is uh...interesting.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I muttered.
Adam rubbed his temples like he had a headache. I was pretty sure his wife was the source of a lot of migraines. Jeremy took a long drink of his scotch while he mulled the idea over. “What would you do with the panties once they were donated?” He seemed as if he were enjoying himself entirely too much.
Chelsea shrugged. “There’s a huge market out there for gently used undies. You should see what they’re going for on the internet.”
“And who’s buying them?” Jeremy asked, not even trying to hide his amused smirk.
“Prisoners,” I piped up and Jeremy laughed. Adam appeared annoyed and Chelsea gave me a look of utter dislike. There was no love lost between me and my sister-in-law, that’s for sure.
Adam put his arm around Chelsea and steered her away. “I’ll catch up with you later, Jeremy. Lena, behave.” His warning wasn’t at all subtle.
I knocked back the rest of my champagne, enjoying the floaty warmth that accompanied the early stages of inebriation. “Panties for Puppies? Is she for real?” Jeremy asked, leaning against the bar, beer bottle in hand. He looked like an advertisement for GQ. His eyes took another languid perusal of my body.
I felt his gaze like a physical touch. My skin flushed hot. I giggled, enjoying the way he watched my mouth. I purposefully licked my lower lip. Long and slow. His blue eyes smoldered. “Oh, she’s for real, unfortunately.”
“I never understood what Adam saw in her. Except the obvious of course. Ducate should know looks aren’t everything. It’s what’s up here that really matters.” Jeremy tapped his temple before popping an hors d’oeuvres into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, most men only care about a nice set of tits.”
Jeremy’s face grew serious. “I’m not most men, Lena.”
The air heated between us. I noticed how Jeremy had moved slightly closer. So close that our arms brushed against one another. I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. “Oh really?” I said breathlessly.
I wanted to do such bad, bad things to this man. And I got the feeling he wanted the exact same thing.
Jeremy leaned in closer, our faces only inches apart. “I told Adam this party was a waste of time and money. I had thought about blowing the whole thing off.” He smiled, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m really glad I didn’t.”
“Jeremy, there you are. Judge Randall is here. We need to introduce ourselves.” A man appeared, looking slightly disheveled. His light brown hair was on the longish side and fell into his pretty hazel eyes. He was slender and tall. So tall that I felt positively tiny standing next to him.
He was dressed as if he hadn’t bothered to look in the mirror before leaving the house. His tie was askew, and his suit jacket was unbuttoned but there was something nice about his face that made him both handsome and unassuming.
Jeremy gave the man a wry grin. “No need to get your panties in a twist, Rob. Given the honorable judge’s advanced age, I don’t think I’ll miss him before he leaves. It’s not as if he moves very quickly.”
“Just make sure he has his hearing aid turned on. He’s notorious for acting as if he’s listening when in fact, he hasn’t heard a damn thing you’ve said. If he says, ‘that’s interesting’ more than once, you know he’s completely zoned out,” I piped up.
“Thanks for the advice,” Jeremy said. He put a hand low down on my back, the curve of his pinkie just above my ass. “Rob, this is Adam’s sister, Marlena.”
“Lena,” I corrected, holding out my hand to Adam’s other partner.
Rob’s eyes widened. “Lena, of course! It’s nice to finally meet you. Adam talks about you all the time. You’re apparently some kind of wunderkind.”
“Ignore my brother. He’s delusional,” I groaned. Jeremy’s thumb began to rub my skin through the thin material of my dress. I tried not to shiver.
“I don’t know about that. He seems confident you’re going to take the judicial system by storm,” Rob said kindly, but then he looked at Jeremy. Then at me. Then at how close we were standing together. “We should head over there, don’t you think?”
Jeremy turned to me. “Care to join us?” He probably should have dropped his hand by now, but he hadn’t. And I didn’t want him to. I was enjoying his attention. I hoped it would lead to more.
“Sure.” I picked up my glass and followed Rob and Jeremy across the room to where Judge Franklin Randall appeared to be dozing in a chair.
I spent the next hour making small talk with members of the Southport community, acting as a liaison for Jeremy into the inner circle of the town’s more illustrious members. Having not only grown up in Southport but also having parents who were firmly entrenched in the social scene, I knew just about everyone. I was able to share fun tidbits about the people Jeremy spoke to—he particularly enjoyed the story about Janet Ludwig, the assistant district attorney’s pet pig named Gilbert.
“Wait, she actually brought the pig to court? You’re making this up.” Jeremy handed me another glass of champagne. I had lost track of how many I had had, but I wasn’t sloppy. I knew how to hold my alcohol.
We were tucked away in a dark corner at the back of the room. We sat close together on a small couch, Jeremy’s arm slung across the back, his fingers tracing circles on my shoulder. I was genuinely enjoying his company. He was witty and intelligent and charming. But more importantly, we simply clicked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me all night and I basked in his radiance. I had dated enough guys to know that Jeremy Wyatt was something altogether different.
He was all man.
And damn if I didn’t want him.
I leaned into him, positioning my body so he had a clear view down the front of my dress. My cleavage was epic and from his frequent glances, I knew he liked what he saw.
“She did. She told the judge that he’d been ill, and she couldn’t leave him at home. Now, this was Judge Latner, who also happened to be her neighbor. So of course, he let Gilbert stay. At least until he took a crap in the middle of closing arguments.”
Jeremy threw his head back and laughed. It was a rich sound that made my thighs clench. “I’m so glad to have met you, Marlena Ducate,” he said, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.
“It’s Lena. I really, really hate the name Marlena,” I told him, my eyes feeling heavy as his thumb ran along the curve of my lips.
“You shouldn’t. It’s a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman.” He leaned in and this was it. He was going to kiss me.
I sucked in a breath and tilted my head back and waited—
“Jeremy, there you are. I need to speak with you.”
The interruption was like being doused with cold water. Jeremy dropped his hand and sat back.
Adam stood there, a goddamn vag block in the flesh. I had never wanted to punch my brother more in my life.
“Lena, Mom is looking for you,” Adam said, his tone frosty. What the hell was his problem?
Jeremy, clearly picking up on Adam’s mood, stood up with a frown. “Okay, sure.” He turned back to me. “I’ll come to find you when I’m done.” His words held the note of a promise.
“I’m holding you to that,” I teased with a grin. The dark blue of his eyes smoldered for an instant before my brother cleared his throat. He really was the worst.
Adam and Jeremy walked off. I could tell by the set of my brother’s face that he wasn’t happy. My curiosity was in overdrive.
I saw my mom and dad talking to their friends and made my way over. “You were looking for me?” I asked my mother once I had reached her.
Her expression was one of surprise. “No, I wasn’t. Why would you think that?”
“Adam said—” Then it hit me what my brother had done. He was such a dickhead. “Never mind.” I gave my mom a kiss on the cheek. “You having fun?”
She wiped a hand across her brow like an eighteenth-century lady. “I am but I’m so tired. I think we’re going to have to call it a night. Are you coming home with us?”
I looked around the room. Adam was back with Chelsea, but there was no sign of Jeremy. I was sure he was around somewhere. I didn’t want to leave with unfinished business hanging between us. I had plans to get that kiss Adam interrupted. And maybe more. “No, I think I’m going to stay a bit longer. I won’t be late though; I need to get back to school first thing in the morning.” I gave my parents both a hug and said goodnight.
I slowly circuited the room, trying to find Jeremy. When I found him, he was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Lindon who owned Jessie’s Diner.
“I’ve been looking for you,” I said to him after greeting the Lindons. I was surprised and more than a little hurt when he barely acknowledged me. Instead, he continued chatting with Mr. Lindon about zoning regulations inside the town limits.
Feeling like an extraneous limb, I stood there like a moron for several minutes waiting for Jeremy to say something to me. Mrs. Lindon, picking up on my awkwardness, attempted small talk, but I had a hard time focusing on what she was saying.
After a few minutes, Jeremy ended his conversation and walked away.
Without ever looking my way.
Jeremy spent the rest of the night totally avoiding me. I attempted to talk to him several more times before my pride kicked in. I had never been the sort of girl to the moon after a guy, hoping he’d talk to her. Screw that. My bruised ego quickly gave way to anger. What had crawled up his ass? I thought we had been getting along. I knew he was into me. He made that pretty damn clear. What was with the whole “I’ll come to find you” nonsense if he planned to blow me off the rest of the evening?
There was only one answer for Jeremy’s sudden withdrawal. I cornered my traitorous brother just as he was about to slip outside to make a phone call. “Wait right there!” I called out, hurrying after him into the cold March night.
Adam looked surprised to see me. “Hey, I didn’t know you were still here.” He put his arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze.
I wiggled away from him. “What did you say to Jeremy?” I demanded.
Adam blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, freezing my butt off, but refusing to let on how cold I was. “When you came over and said you had to talk to him. What did you say to him?”
Adam frowned. “It was about the caterer. They overcharged us around five hundred bucks. He was the one who signed the contract, so I needed him to sort it out.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why do you care?”
I glared at him, wondering if he was lying to me. But Adam didn’t lie to me. That’s not how our relationship worked. My anger seeped out of me and turned into despondency. If Adam hadn’t warned him away from me, that meant—
“It’s nothing,” I said softly, feeling like an idiot.
Adam’s expression softened. “Don’t waste your time on him, Lena.”
I squared my shoulders defensively. “What do you mean?”
Adam gave me a sad little smile. “Let me guess, you thought he liked you. He told you he’d find you later. Then he completely blew you off.”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Adam, picking up on my mortification, gave me a hug. “Jeremy Wyatt is the biggest man whore I’ve ever met. He plays with women. He’s a great attorney and a decent friend but he’s an ass to women. He’s all about the conquest, then he loses interest. He’s notorious for using and losing.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’re too good for a guy like Wyatt. And I don’t want to have to break his arms for messing with you. You’re young, Lena. And a little naive. A man like Jeremy would eat you up and spit you out.”
Even though I bristled at Adam’s description of me, I couldn’t help but feel like the world’s most stupid female. I had always prided myself on not falling for a line. I didn’t go for guys who were only after one thing. I was known for my ability to see through male patented bullshit.
I guess my douche meter was on the fritz.
“It was nothing. I would never take a guy like Jeremy Wyatt seriously. You don’t need to worry about me.” I put my arms around Adam and hugged him tightly. He may be annoying, but I knew I could always count on him.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Now get inside before you freeze to death. I need to make a phone call.” Adam shooed me inside.
“Who are you calling?” I asked, being nosy.
“Just an old friend I haven’t spoken to in far too long.” He gave me a gentle shove. “Now go and give me some privacy.
“Are you calling Meg?” I asked excitedly, hoping he was finally extending an olive branch to the girl he had been friends with up until he decided to hitch his wagon to Chelsea’s hoe train. I loved Meg; she had been like a sister to me. I sure hoped he was finally talking to her again after so long.
“That’s none of your business. Get lost, Sherlock.” He gave me a sad smile that only talk of Meg brought out. He hadn’t called me Sherlock since we were kids. Meg gave me the nickname when I was seven because she claimed I was the smartest person she knew.
“Alright, tell her hello from me if that’s who you’re calling,” I said, hurrying back inside.
Now that I had no reason to stick around, I was more than anxious to leave. Even though I had just told my brother that I was fine, I was anything but.
It was more than my pride that took a bruising. The truth was I had liked Jeremy. And I had really thought he liked me. I couldn’t have been imagining it. We had genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. There had been a spark between us. A connection. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something there.
I should just talk to him. Maybe it was some sort of miscommunication. Maybe I had given him mixed signals. Maybe he thought I was the one not interested.
I’d find him and ask him what’s going on—
“Oh, sorry.” I came up short at the sight of a man and woman pressed against the far wall of the hallway. I had been trying to find the coatroom, not expecting to stumble on the beginnings of a bad porno. One of the woman’s legs was wrapped around the man’s waist, her dress riding up her thighs high enough that I could see her pink underwear. Her hands were in his dark hair, his mouth on her neck. One of his hands was between her legs and she was making high-pitched mewling noises in the back of her throat that reminded me of a cat in heat. Whoever she was, she sounded ridiculous. I had to smother my laughter.
Forget it, this was too funny not to laugh my ass off.
The woman getting fingerbanged looked over her partner’s shoulder, an expression of annoyance marring her pleasure. I recognized her as Nicola Bennett who had graduated two years ahead of me and now worked at the clerk’s office. I wasn’t surprised to find her half-naked with some random guy’s fingers inside her underwear. Nicola definitely got around and made no secret of it. I appreciated a person who knew what they wanted and went after it. You had to respect a woman that didn’t care what anyone else thought of her.
So, good for her. I wasn’t about to slut-shame her for enjoying herself.
I gave her a thumbs up in a show of female solidarity and began to slink back down the hallway as quietly as possible.
Then the man turned around. And I froze. He froze.
That fucking bastard, cock sucking dickface.
“Hello,” I said, loathing dripping from every syllable.
That douchey, rat-faced assmunch.
Jeremy moved away from Nicola, dropping her to the floor. She whimpered in protest, grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him back towards her. He frowned and pushed her hands away.
“Marlena,” he said, taking a step towards me.
“It’s Lena,” I growled as I imagined dismembering him very, very slowly—penis first.
The expression on Jeremy’s face was hard to read. There was an embarrassment, sure. There was perhaps irritation at being interrupted. But I thought there might be something else there. Contrition, maybe. Regret, possibly.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. My brother was right.
Jeremy was a piece of shit man whore and I was thankful I hadn’t dropped my panties as quickly as Nicola had. I hated feeling like a fool. And Jeremy had definitely made me feel like one.
“Could you give us some privacy, please?” Nicola’s voice was grating. As if she were trying to be seductive—all husky gravel and breathless words. The effort made her sound as if she had been gargling broken glass.
“Of course, don’t let me stop you.” The acid in my voice was obvious. I met Jeremy’s eyes one last time, letting all of my disgust and disdain radiate out towards him in one powerful, hostility filled thrust.
He appeared to flinch. He turned his back on Nicola, straightening his shirt and smoothed his hair.
“Hey,” Nicola whined, zipping up her skirt and wiping the smudged lipstick from her mouth. Jeremy ignored her. It was as if she wasn’t even there.
His blue eyes were trained on me. To think only an hour before I thought they were sexy and deep and beautiful.
Not anymore.
Stupid, stupid Lena.
Jeremy opened his mouth as if to speak, but I didn’t want to hear whatever it was he was about to say.
I was done with Jeremy Wyatt. I would never make the mistake of being wooed by him again.
“Have a good night,” I said icily, turning on my heel and walking with all the dignity I could muster down the hallway and out of the building.
I would never be taken in by a pretty face and smooth words again. I hated Jeremy Wyatt. More importantly, I hated that he made me think I was special.
Forget him. I was better off. I didn’t need any complications. And getting involved with a man like Jeremy was most definitely a complication.
So why was I disappointed when he didn’t follow me?
