She tilted her head while he frowned at her in confusion.
“The Brick Babes!” she clarified. “I’m great with people, obviously, so I’d be perfect if you need someone to talk about the station at bars and things like that.”
Hell. This was actual hell. “Actually, I’m not the one—”
She leaned in. “Between you and me, it sounded like what the station’s looking for are girls to flirt with guys at public events. And that’s something I do anyway, so I thought it’d be fun to be officially sponsored. Plus you get free drinks and free shirts! What’s not to like?”
Would this conversation be as painful if every part of Jake’s bodywasn’tdrenched with sweat? Probably. “I know lots of women are excited about it, but my boss is the one who—”
“And I’d love to meet the deejays! Dave, on the morning show? He sounds soooo cute when I listen!”
Even in his weakened state, he didn’t have the heart to squash the hope in Thea’s bright, eager eyes. “Tell you what, I’ll put in a good word for you, but I’ll have to shower first to do it.”
Another lightning-bolt smile. “Oh! Ha! Sorry to hold you up. Rude of me. I’d hug you, but you’re super gross. ’Kay, the wine is calling. Enjoy your night! Thanks for the reference.”
With a little wave, his Energizer Bunny neighbor turned and bounced down the hall. Brandon was going to love her.
He finally let himself into his air-conditioned apartment, pulled off his shirt, and walked straight to the kitchen sink, sticking his head under the faucet to rinse the sweat out of his eyes. He grabbed a clean towel to mop up his face and was headed toward the shower when someone knocked on his door. Suppressing a groan, he pulled it open.
“Listen, Thea—” he began, but the words died on his lips.
“Hi— Whoa.” Mabel leaned back to take him in. “Bad time?”
He couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d opened his door to discover the ghost of Abraham Lincoln standing there, and his heart rate accelerated as if he were still sprinting uphill. “No. Uh, no, it’s fine.”
Her eyes snapped to his chest, and her teeth dug into her lower lip. Right. Fuck. Shirtless and glistening was no way to talk to someone he couldn’t be in a relationship with, so he hurriedly tugged his shirt back on, wincing as the clammy fabric met his chest and back. “What are you doing here?”
“Right.” She snapped her gaze back to his face, and fuckyes, her cheeks were glowing pink and her eyes were glassy. Not so indifferent now, was she?
But no. He’d left his Mabel feelings behind in the hotel, remember? The emotional onesandthe sexual ones. He was focused on getting back on track now, even if he had to shut down a part of himself to do it.
“Um, Brandon asked me to deliver this.” She brandished a manila envelope. “Station stuff. He oh so helpfully provided your address. I’m not a stalker, I swear.” She laughed weakly, but he didn’t join in. Having her in his new space was seriously throwing him off his game plan.
“Thanks.” He threw the envelope on his kitchen table, and common courtesy reared its head even though he knew it could be trouble. “Do you want to come in, have a seat?”
“No, I… I’m not staying.” But she stepped over his threshold anyway, eyes darting all around his barren apartment before finally settling on her feet. She took a deep breath and blurted, “I was worried about you on Wednesday. Your Jeep was in the parking lot, but you weren’t there. Robbie had to fill me in on your boy’s night out.”
What’s that? The woman who pretended he was invisible during their last encounter actually cared if he lived or died?
He shouldn’t push the issue, but, well, he’d seen the way she looked at his chest. “You were worried? But you hate me.” He took a step toward her, not bothering to hide the challenge in his tone.
She shook her head. “I don’t though. That’s the problem.” She lifted her head, and her lips tugged downward.
“I’m sorry, Mabel.So sorry.”It seemed he hadn’t left his emotions behind after all. But she deserved this apology, just like he deserved the pain of knowing he’d caused that frown on her face. “I hate that I hurt you. I wish it could’ve been different, but—”
“But you couldn’t tell me, could you? Because of your CPA Hippocratic oath.”
He blinked as the rest of his apology was rendered moot. “Yes, actually. The penalties for violating confidentiality are no joke. My hands were tied.”
“So Brandon tells me.”
More blinking. She was going to think he had an eye problem. “Brandon?”
“Tall, blond, kind of an asshole?” She scowled, then her face softened. “He explained the trouble you could’ve gotten in if you’d said anything to me. It was… weird.”
“I imagine.” He rested his hands on his hips as he tried to picture whatthatconversation must’ve been like.
Mabel interrupted his thoughts by pacing toward his kitchenette, her sandals slapping against the tile. “Here’s the thing: you didn’t trust me. I thought we were building something. Why didn’t you think I could keep a secret?”
