“Yes. I’m so embarrassed. It’s just weird, you know. I’m away from my family, in a strange country, and all this stuff is happening to me. I’m getting fan mail.Fan mail.It’s… a lot. But that’s no excuse. You’ve been so nice to me, amazing and supportive, and I guess I-I…” He trailed off, face bleak.
“I understand. Now, go cool off. Take a walk, splash some water on your face, whatever you need. We’ll say no more about it.”
I waited for him to leave, then headed to my office. The altercation with Presley had made me ache even more for Joz. It wasn’t the first time a guy I had no interest in had tried to kiss me, but it was a timely reminder how different Joz was. Not once had he pushed or gaslit or coerced me. He’d shown patience and understanding, even while he outrageously flirted. In his company, I felt safe. There hadn’t been a single occasion where the internal warning radar all women developed the second they hit puberty had sounded.
Joz was the real deal. A confident man secure in his own masculinity, with no reason, want, or need to push a woman intodoing something she wasn’t comfortable with. Now that I’d had time to calm down, I was convinced he’d left me this morning because whatever demons he lived with had reared their heads, and he’d made the mistake of listening to them instead of talking to me.
I wouldn’t let him run this time. Although I couldn’t force him to tell me his innermost thoughts and fears, I could lend an ear and let him know I’d always be a safe place to fall.
I left the studio without bumping into Presley and returned to my apartment to pack for a few days in London. Once situated in the back of my car, I messaged my assistant, telling her I was taking a couple of days off and to only call me if something urgent came up. If Joz agreed to talk to me, I wanted to ensure we weren’t interrupted.
The flight across the Atlantic was smooth enough that I managed a few hours’ sleep. We landed to a chilly breeze and a fair amount of drizzle—typical fall weather for England. I didn’t mind the damp conditions. I’d spent time in the UK during every season, and fall was one of my favorites, even if it did rain a lot of the time. Far better than the humid summers, where the lack of air conditioning made it a thoroughly miserable time for most.
My palms slicked with sweat as the familiar site of Joz’s building came into view. Conflict wasn’t something I shied away from. In my business, it was a necessary skill to have, but when it came to personal relationships, I didn’t enjoy the aftermath of a contentious argument.
Catching him unawares was the best approach rather than ringing the bell and giving him the opportunity to tell me hedidn’t want to see me. If I was standing right outside his apartment door, it would be harder to ignore me.
I hovered around the entrance, sheltering underneath the polka dot umbrella I’d purchased the day I met Joz for the first time. It had been a lucky charm for me then. Maybe it would work for me now.
Fifteen minutes went by before the door opened, and a couple exited. I waited for them to pass, then grabbed the door, lowered my umbrella, and slipped inside. It was somewhat fortunate that Joz didn’t live in a building which required a code for the elevator. If I thought about it, he lived frugally, the loft apartment spacious but nowhere near as luxurious as a man of his means could afford. Perhaps it was his working-class background that made him more comfortable in down to earth environments. If he opened up to me, and the right moment came, I might ask him.
First, though, I wanted to know why he gave me the best orgasms of my life, then took off.
My hand shook a little as I made a fist and knocked on his door. There was a chance he wasn’t even here, but I’d wager that he was. He’d come home to lick his wounds, whatever they were, and tell himself he’d done the right thing.
He was wrong, and I was here to tell him that.
A heavy sigh came through the door. He’d obviously spied me through the peephole.
“Not now, Aspen.”
I tamped down the swell of annoyance that rose in me like a well proved loaf. “Yes, now. I’m going nowhere, and just so you know, my family has told me many times I have more tenacity than the rest of them put together. So, unless you want me to murder every single song you’ve ever written by bellowing them at the top of my voice and pissing off your neighbors, you’ll open the fucking door.”
He sighed again, but the sound of a lock being turned shot my heart rate into overdrive.
Here we go.
The door opened, and a bedraggled Joz stood on the other side dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a baggy, plain black T-shirt, his feet bare.
“You left your spine at my apartment.” I swanned past him, my stilettos clicking on his bamboo flooring. “And just so you know, you don’t get to fuck me and run away, so buckle up, buttercup. You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
Chapter 22
Joz
I’m a great singer, an cracking guitar player… and a shitty person.
Aspen Kingcaidglided into my apartment on a chilly Wednesday afternoon like she was floating on air, dropped demands she’d flown four thousand miles to deliver, and sank onto my couch, expectant and ready for battle.
She was a fucking queen—and I was obsessed with her.
Whether that obsession was strong enough for her to drag secrets from me that I’d held on to for more than eight years was still up for debate. One thing I did know was that she wouldn’t leave until I’d given her something. She had a radar as sharp as the betrayal I’d cut her with.
“You eaten?”
“No. I was saving my appetite to chew you out.”
Despite the rot of guilt gnawing on my insides, I smiled. “I’ll make some eggs.”
