She couldn’t mean it. She couldn’t possibly.
He wasn’t worthy of her love.
Damien took a deep breath and hit the buzzer for her apartment. His foot tapped impatiently on the sidewalk. The June evening air was humid but breezy, and it felt like rain might fall before the morning.
No one answered the buzzer. He hit it again, holding it longer than was courteous. But damn it, he knew she was in there, and he needed to talk to her. After his tattoo was completed, he’d finished up his business with George and caught the first plane back.
He needed to look her in the eye and tell her to stop feeling whatever she thought she felt for him.
Before he admitted that he loved her as well, however flawed that love was. Before she tried to convince him that it would be enough. Before he believed her and then later hurt her.
“Who the hell are you and why are you ringing my doorbell at two in the damn morning?”
That most definitely wasn’t Mandy’s voice. Damien had forgotten about her roommates. He’d also forgotten that most of the world was asleep at two in the morning.
“Uh, sorry. This is Damien Sharpton. I’m looking for Mandy. Is she there?”
“Of course she’s here, but she’s sleeping. Like a normal person who has to go to work the next day is.”
“Can you wake her up for me?” He was her boss, after all. He wasn’t going to upset if she slept in tomorrow. Or didn’t go to work at all.
There was total silence for a good sixty seconds.
Damien hit the buzzer again. It got a reaction.
“Stop it, jackass! There are three other people still sleeping in this apartment.”
“They’ll all be awake if you don’t go get Mandy for me.” So he was being the jackass she’d labeled him, but there was no way he could go and wait until the morning. He just couldn’t. “Please? I really need to talk to her.”
The voice sighed into the intercom. She groaned. “You really won’t leave, will you?”
“No.”
With a slur on his character, she hit the buzzer to open the door. Damien grabbed it and ran up the three flights of stairs at top speed so she wouldn’t change her mind. He knocked on the door.
It yanked open, and a woman with long brown hair and even longer legs glared at him. “You’re actually a lunatic, you know that?”
“No, I’m just assertive.”
She rolled her eyes. There was only one muted lamp on behind her in the apartment and a dim hall light, but Damien could read the antagonism on her face. “Assertive...asshole. Same difference.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up. But I just got back from Chicago and I really, really needed to see Mandy, and I sort of forgot she has roommates.”
Damien suddenly became aware that she was basically in her underwear, and he started to question the wisdom of this impromptu visit. Not that she looked worried about the fact that she was in bikini-style panties and a tank top, but he felt something like embarrassment.
“Allison, did I hear the doorbell?” A blonde with white spots of cream all over her face stumbled down the hallway in blue satin pajamas with fat pink pigs on them.
“Yes, you heard the doorbell. Damien wants to see Mandy.”
The blonde’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened. “Mr. Sharpton? Oh, my God!”
Yep, this had been a bad idea. “Hi, Caroline. I, uh, didn’t recognize you there at first.”
Her hand flew to her head and the hair that normally was so well contained and was now puffy and flyaway.
He realized what a stupid thing that was to say.
Her hand moved to her face and touched one of the white spots.
