What was I thinking? The last thing I need is to regress or slide back down that slippery slope. I have worked too hard to drag myself into the light to return to the darkness.
Jared will not break me again.
“Baby, you want me to get the door?” Gio purrs, running his fingers back and forth across my collarbone.
“No.” Flinging the covers off, I grab the nearest item of clothing off the floor—his light-blue shirt—and yank it down over my nude body. “Stay here. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”
And then it’ll be your turn.
I cringe at my thought, but it’s the truth.
A night of hot sex doesn’t change things. Gio and I aren’t a good fit, and I’m a selfish bitch to have reeled him back in when he had just let go.
This is why I am normally careful with alcohol. I cannot be trusted to make the right decision when I’m drunk.
The pounding continues as I race down the hallway and past the kitchen, rubbing my sore head and fighting nausea as alcohol sloshes in my stomach.
I yank the door open without looking to see who it is. “What’s so—” The words dry up as I stare at Jared with my mouth trailing the ground.
While I try to calm my beating heart, he slowly drinks me in. From the knotty bedhead I’m sporting, down over the loose shirt which hits me mid-thigh, and along my naked legs to my bare feet and the chipped glittery red nail polish on my toes.
I bet Vittoria never steps out of bed looking less than immaculate. My mood sours as the thought lands in my head, igniting the anger that is never far from the surface. I snap out of it, refusing to ogle the rock god standing in my doorway looking far too good for this hour of the morning.
Not that I know what hour it is. It could be after midday, for all I know. I never set an alarm on my day off.
“What are you doing here, and how did you know where I live?”
Jared removes his designer shades, piercing me with clear crystal-blue eyes. “We need to talk, and I got your address from the British girl at the gallery.”
I am going to murder Gemma with my bare hands.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I lie, folding my arms over my chest.
“We both know that’s not true.” He leans against my doorway, flicking strands of hair out of his eyes. “We are long overdue a conversation. Ten years overdue.”
“It should stay in the past, just like our lo—friendship,” I correct, inwardly cursing my tired hungover brain for almost blurting the L-word.
“Don’t rewrite history, Syd. We both know what we meant to one another.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Or at least what you meant to me.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I narrow my eyes.
“Exactly what it sounds like. It was an instant case of out of sight, out of mind for you, right?” His fists clench into balls at his sides, as I see red.
“Are you for real?” My pitch elevates a notch as I full-on glare at him now.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Syd! And fuck off looking at me like I murdered your cat. The only person who has a right to be angry is me.” He thumps a hand over his chest, right where his heart beats.
“You’re fucking delusional!” I snap. “All those drugs you consumed have clearly addled your brain, and I need this crap like a hole in the head.” Pain rattles around my skull, and my stomach churns uneasily.
“You were never quick to judge, but I guess that’s just something else that’s changed.”
I jab my finger in his chest. “Fuck you, Jared. You don’t get to show up on my doorstep and throw shade at me. Just go.”
Air whooshes out of his mouth. “Look, I think we both need to take a step back. I didn’t come here to argue with you.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I harrumph.
“I came here for answers.” His eyes plead with me for understanding that is in limited supply.
