I maintain a staring contest with the table because there’s no way I can meet his heady stare right now. “It means she likes you. It’s obvious.”
He snorts out a laugh. “If you say so.”
I shrug, still refusing to meet his gaze. “She’s perfect for you, right? Young, beautiful, uncomplicated.”
You know when you open your mouth and make a situation a hundred times worse? Yeah, this is one of those times.
Eddie leans in and hooks a finger under my chin, lifting it until I have no choice but to look at him.
Anger and frustration roil in his dark eyes. “What are you doing, Kiki?” he hisses.
Trying not to fall apart, Eddie? Is that a good enough answer for you?
“Nothing. Just stating the obvious.”
“Are you trying to fix me up with another woman now? Is that what this is?”
“No.” I try to shake my head, but he holds me in place. “I just…” I swallow, forcing the words out. “It would be easy for you, right? To have a future with someone like Romy.”
Something shifts in him as his emotional armor snaps into place, shutting me out.
He releases my chin and straightens, tugging his shirt back into place. “I already have a kid and an ex-wife. I’m not in the market for the whole white picket fence thing again. Pretty sure fun is the only thing missing from my life right now. But hey, thanks for caring.”
Chapter 21
We Were Magic
Kiki
Iarrive on the job site early, mainly because I need a few minutes to settle into my skin before facing the day.
I barely slept, but that’s normal for me now. I’m running on coffee and a highly questionable diet of chocolate and ice cream, which feels like a perfectly reasonable life choice given the current state of my existence.
Not that I’m spiraling or anything.
This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Eddie went out with Romy and the guys last night.
Nothing at all.
Look, I don’t care if the guys hook up with Romy. Good for them. Live your best lives, gentlemen.
But Eddie?
Yeah. That’s where things getwaymore complicated.
Despite how often I remind myself I don’t get a say in how he lives his life, that doesn’t stop my brain from helpfully supplying images I do not need of Eddie and Romy laughing, talking, kissing, and any number of X-rated activities in some podunk bar across town.
That’s the stuff nightmares are made of, folks.
But I don’t get to be jealous. Apparently, I don’t get to feel anything anymore.
And if that fun mental slideshow wasn’t enough to warp my brain, I also received a call from Drake’s defense attorney last night.
Per him, it wasurgentthat I come to his office to discuss options before the trial.
Which is a load of bullshit.
It’s just a polished way of asking if I’m ready to get on board with whatever twisted version of reality they’re planning to sell a judge.
