Wherever we were, we came home to each other every night. We slept together. We’d had sex on top of or against every piece of furniture we owned. What did they want? Photographic evidence?
The only place we hadn’t had sex yet was the bed, which was a running joke between us, and like with everything else, it was just a matter of time before that happened.
So why was I so worried about the photos with Jax? They looked incriminating, but they could be easily explained.
I would fight for us, but I couldn’t fight for something one-sided. I’d done that once, and it nearly broke me, but I loved Lior with far greater intensity than I’d ever loved my ex.
Which was why I would never forgive myself if Lior lost his family’s company because of me, even if it wasn’t directly my fault.
A person who went as far as marrying someone they barely knew to save their legacy wouldn’t be happy having that legacy taken away.
The big question was, did Lior trust me implicitly? Or did he believe the photos?
Could we handle this together?
I stopped pacing when I heard the sound of the door unlocking.
Lior was here. I wanted to go to him. To hug him and kiss him and have him tell me everything would be okay. I wanted him to take all the anxiety away and then fuck me into the wall to show all the reporters and the doubters that what we had was something and it was real.
The first thing I noticed as he came inside was that he didn’t have his usual bag with the suits he’d wear for the week at the office.
There was a tightness in his expression, and he held a newspaper in his hand, which I guessed contained the article.
He’s not staying.
My heart raced as he made his way to me, but it sank when he dropped the newspaper on the coffee table and sat on the couch.
I had one decision to make. Tell Lior the truth and hope we could fight this together or let him go in the hope that being away from me would help him keep his company.
I just hoped my decision was the right one in the long run.
Lior opened the newspaper to the page with the photo of Jax and me.
“Can these be explained?” His voice lacked emotion. He wouldn’t even look at me. It was like he’d both believed and didn’t want to believe what the article had printed.
I sat on the chair next to the couch because I didn’t trust myself to not break down if I was too close to Lior.
“Yes.”
“Favorably?” He looked at me for the first time since coming inside my apartment. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but his lips remained tight.
“It looks like we were caught in the photos taken by people from another group at Tanner’s. It was loud in the bar, and he didn’t exactly want everyone to hear hiswhat happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegasstory.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not my story to tell. Two friends were having drinks. It was loud, so we were in each other’s space.”
He rested his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair.
Even in a moment like this, when I could see our whole short-lived relationship flash through my eyes, he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
“I don’t know if I can fight this, Noah.”
“I understand. It doesn’t look good for you and no one will ever believe the innocence in the photos.”
He leafed through the paper and removed an envelope that was tucked inside. He opened it and dropped the contents on top of the newspaper.
All my blood drained from my face, and I felt cold as I stared at the stack of photos on the table. Photos of me hugging someone on the street, having lunch out like I was on a date, andthe worst, photos of me in very compromising positions with other men.
