“I don’t see it that way,” Brenner stated. “Maybe it’s simply his way of trying to figure out how you fit together because you two are so different. And if Ambrose hates lawyers the way Keston says, he could be looking at how to smooth the road for the two of them to have that discussion.”
“He didn’t have to lie,” I repeated, stubborn in my conviction.
“And you walked out, giving him no chance for an explanation,” Brenner said pointedly. “That’s not the adult way to handle things. Especially if you care about him.”
“Do you?” Weston prodded.
That wasn’t something I planned to discuss with them before talking to Keston, especially after how this night had exploded. “I should go home.”
They accompanied me to the door, and Weston gave me an unexpected hug. “Whatever happens with Keston, any man would be lucky to have you as his boyfriend. I know I am to call you my friend.”
Damn. Talk about a one-two punch to the gut. “Thanks,” I managed to whisper.
I called for a car to take me home. It let me out in front of my brownstone, and I stopped short. On the steps, waiting for me, was Keston.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Keston
I wasn’t used to remorse. But seeing Bailey emerge from the car with his shoulders slumped, those normally twinkling eyes vacant, and his always-at-the-ready smile nowhere to be found, my heart turned over and guilt streamed through me, hot and painful.
I’d done that. Taken away his joyful spirit, reducing him to a shadow. A figure in grays and blacks, when usually he’d be filled with every color of the rainbow. This wasn’t the Bailey I knew, and I didn’t like myself very much at the moment.
Bailey remained on the sidewalk, so I rose to my feet from my seat on the stoop and came down the steps to meet him.
“Can we talk?”
His steady gaze met mine. “I don’t know. Can we? You weren’t so interested in talking in your shop. All you wanted was to shut me up. So if you’re here to give me more excuses why you want to keep hiding me, you can keep walking.”
People passed by, giving us curious looks, and I took him by the elbow. “Can’t we go inside?”
Without answering, he walked up the steep stairs, and like a puppy, I trailed after him, hopeful because he hadn’t yet told me to fuck off and get out of his face. Once in his apartment,he tossed his keys into the dish by the door and kicked off his loafers. He eyed me.
“They’re Cole Haan, bought at the outlet store. I may wear designer, but I still buy thrifty.”
I held out my hands. “Come on, Bailey. Don’t be like that.”
Eyes blazing, he pointed at me. “Like what? You lied to Ambrose’s face about me…us. And worse even, you thought it was okay for me to shut up and listen to your bullshit explanation. For what? So you could prepare him for me? What the hell—I’m not someone you can fuck in the dark and hide away in the light. Because he doesn’t like lawyers? Big deal. I don’t like to go to the dentist, but you can be damn sure I wouldn’t hide him away if he and I were together. Not that I’d want to be with Dr. Brady because he’s sixty and straight with a paunch and a wife…”
My lips twitched, but Bailey was on a roll and wouldn’t be denied.
“I deserve more. I am more.”
“I…I know. I—” But he cut me off.
“I would never let anyone talk down about or to you because you’re a tattoo artist and didn’t go to college. I’d build you up, show you off. I’d tell them how talented and creative you are and how you run your own business. If anyone said something negative, I’d challenge them. You know what your problem is? You’re too busy judging people on face value, and that’s shallow as hell.”
“You’re right. I was wrong.”
“That’s it?” He stared at me, and a snort of disbelief escaped him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You think that’s all you have to say and I should be grateful? That everything between us will be fine and we’ll jump into bed?”
“I’m trying to say I’m sorry,” I yelled. “Dammit. I don’t need this shit.” I opened the door.
“Go ahead. Leave. That’s what you do best, run away when it gets tough,” he shouted back at me. “I didn’t ask you to come here. I’m sure you can find someone who’ll be okay with your moody, grumpy ass. But it won’t be me because I’ll have met someone who appreciates me.”
At those words, I froze. “The hell you will.” I slammed the door shut and faced him. He glared at me.
“You have no say. Remember, you won’t even admit you and I are sleeping together.”
