“I want you back, Lexi. I messed up last time. I didn’t know how to be a father, and with Evie crying constantly, I lost my head. I was a fool. I was wrong to let you go.
“I know you regret breaking our family up. I know you’re angry, and I want to give you time to deal with that. Just get over it and come back to me.” He took a step closer and put a hand on my hair brushing it off my face. I pushed his hand away irritably.
“See, I was right about the anger,” he said with a laugh.
“We’re not getting back, Dylan,” I hissed, taking a step closer.
“I knew you would say something like that. So I moved to New York to be closer to you. You’ll see I’ve changed, Lexi. Besides, doesn’t Evie deserve a family?”
The jerk. I’d forgotten how manipulative Dylan had been during our relationship. And now, here he was again, using Evie as leverage, guilt-tripping me under the guise of family values.
He leaned in closer, his lips near my ear. “If that doesn’t convince you, think about how great we were in bed.”
Dylan’s hand closed over my wrist just as my mind flashed back to how unhappy I’d been with our sex life.
He thought me pleasing him was how he defined being great in bed. He never once thought of pleasing me, no matter how much I’d asked.
I yanked my hand out of his grip. “You wereterriblein bed, Dylan. Just terrible.”
I turned away to storm off, when something struck me. I faced him again. “If you really cared about Evie, you’d ask to see her instead of insinuating you’ll step up once I take you back. I’m not falling for that again, Dylan. Don’t show up at my desk again.”
I didn’t like Dylan being this close. I didn’t want him suggesting we could go back to what we were. I’d buried those memories deep in my mind, never wanting to revisit those dreary days of Evie’s first year and my depression. Seeing him here brought it all back.
I turned toward the elevator, but Dylan gripped my wrist again, making me cry out in pain.
I spun around, ready to smack him.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” came a voice from behind me.
Jonah’s voice.
I turned to see him striding out of an elevator, his expression furious. His gaze locked on Dylan, and a muscle tensed in his jaw as he positioned himself directly between us.
“Do you not understand when someone says no?” Jonah asked, his voice eerily calm but carrying a sharp edge. “Because I can make it very clear for you if that’s the problem.”
Dylan hesitated, his eyes taking in Jonah’s broad shoulders and height. I could see his confidence falter.
Jonah’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Did you just assault one of my employees?” he asked softly, as Dylan released my wrist and stepped back.
“No, not at all,” Dylan stammered.
Jonah turned to me. “Show me your wrist.”
We had an audience. People in the lobby were staring, including a group that had apparently come down with Jonah. I didn’t want to make things worse, but I held out my arm.
Jonah gently took my wrist, his touch soft and deliberate. Unlike Dylan’s grip, Jonah’s touch didn’t make my skin crawl. Instead, goosebumps spread along my skin, the good kind, I thought as he examined my wrist.
“Lucky for you, there are no bruises,” he said, turning back to Dylan. “So I’ll consider this a reason not to press charges. This time,” he said.
Jonah motioned to the security guard, who began escorting Dylan out of the lobby.
“I’m an employee here, dammit!” Dylan shouted, probably for the benefit of the onlookers.
Jonah pulled out his phone. “Check the security cameras for 5:07 p.m.,” he spoke into his phone. “Make sure this guy is escorted off the premises and doesn’t return.”
He turned back to me, but I’d had enough.
People were already staring, and I’d spotted Stacey in the crowd watching us. This would simply add to her reasons to dislike me.
