“No,” she says. She puts her professional mask back on. “I think I’ve got what I needed. We’re done.”
Her phone buzzes on the table, and she moves to it. When she glances at the screen, I watch her expression shift. Something ugly twists in my gut … it’s jealousy.
“Oh, look who it is,” she says, showing me the screen.
I see my brother’s face.
“Wow. That’s interesting. Didn’t realize you two were talking.” I shrug even though my jaw is locked tight. “Couldn’t have the real thing, so you ran back to him.”
The laughter that releases from me is harsh. I stand, stretching.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I take several steps toward her, crossing my arms over my chest. “Doesn’t fucking matter, does it? Go on.”
“Are you seriously jealous right now? After you kissed me?—”
“Oh, I didn’t kiss you, sweetheart. Don’t get that shit twisted. You mauled me,” I snap at her.
“I’m aware. But you kissed me back. Why?” she asks. “And who the fuck did you go home with?”
She’s breathing hard, and I know she saw the photos. I should feel victorious that my little misdirection worked, but instead, it does nothing. Not when my brother’s calling her.
“You should answer that,” I say, blinking at her.
She laughs, and it sounds brittle. “This attitude you give me isn’t cute, Pattycakes. For once in your miserable life, you should say what you mean instead of hiding behind a bad attitude and subpar insults.”
I take a step forward, and we’re close now—too close. I can feel the heat radiating off her body. Her eyes are blazing, and her chest is heaving. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want her at this moment, which is exactly why I can’t give her what she’s asking for.
“You want the truth?” My voice drops low.
“Yes.”
“I think you’re using this project to torture me because you can’t stand that I’m not falling at your feet and worshipping you like everyone else in your life, Ken Doll. You scheduled three sessions because you get off on having power over me. And?—”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, seeing it’s Jameson.
I give her a sarcastic smile. “I’ve got to take this,” I say, moving toward the door.
“Running away from this conversation,” she mutters.
“Yeah, kinda like what you did when you went to Europe,” I tell her.
She gives me the dirtiest look.
I open the door and slam it closed as I walk into the hallway without glancing back.
“Hello?” I answer with my blood pumping through my body.
“Wow, someone’s in a mood.” Jameson’s laugh is easy in a way mine never is. “Bad time?”
“It’s perfect timing. I’m leaving the facility,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Thinking about coming down for the Angels versus the Cobras game in a few weeks. We should grab dinner, catch up; you can fill me in on your life because the tabloids aren’t doing you any favors.” He pauses.
“That sounds good. You plan on wearing my jersey again?” I ask, knowing he nearly caused a riot because everyone thought he was me.
“Always,” he tells me. “How’s the portrait painting going with Kendall? Addison said you two weren’t playing nice.”
