I punch the button. “Come on, come on.” I slam a fist against the panel. “Fuck!”
I turn and shove through the door to the stairwell instead, taking them three at a time as I grip the handrail and fucking fly down to street level like my life depends on it.
She depends on it.
I can’t allow her to leave thinking something is going on with Lizzie. That’s just… Fuck…
I spot her, pressing the key fob for her car as she hurries over to it.
My hand slams the driver door closed before she manages to crack it further than an inch.
“I do that,” I pant, my chest heaving as I drag in much needed air.
She whips her face in my direction, her mouth so close to my own as I crowd her body from behind, trapping her between me and her car.
“You’re not my bodyguard anymore,” she says, turning to open the door again.
I slam it closed again.
Oh, she’s pissed. I’ve seen her like this countless times over the years. Only when she’s extra quiet like this, devoid of emotion, it’s not only because she’s pissed. It’s because she’shurt.
“Sinclair.”
“Let go of my door, Denver. I want to leave.”
My jaw clenches as she avoids my eyes. I suck in a deep breath, my nostrils flaring as I open her door for her, standing back so she has space. She puts her coffee mug into the holder and then bends and scoops Monty up from where he’s jumping at my legs trying to greet me. She lifts him into the car carefully and tells him to stay.
She straightens back up, stiffening as I step closer to her.
“Please, listen to me. They came to talk to me about something important.”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to explain right now. Go back upstairs. We’ll talk later.” She finally turns and looks at me properly, taking in the fact I’m shirtless in the street.
“No,” I grit. “We’ll talk now!” I jab a finger down at the sidewalk to accentuate my point. “We’ve put off talking for too long. We should have told your father about us by now. And that’s the first thing we’re going to do as soon as I tell you what’s going on with Liz and Dix.”
Her pupils dilate, and I swear she looks pleased at my outburst.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I frown, expecting some push back. This is Sinclair. She’s always got something to say about everything.
“We tell my father as soon as possible, I agree,” she says.
“Right,” I murmur, studying her.
“Does she still love you?”
I grimace at her question. “What?”
“Lizzie. Does she still love you?”
“No, it’s not like that between us.”
“Do you still love her?”
I’m stunned into silence as she stares at me, waiting for an answer. Her eyes grow glassy, and she turns to slide into the car.
“Sinclair?” I pull her up against me, my hand curling around her hip. “I’ve never been in love with Lizzie. Why would you think that?”
