Maybe friends weren’t worth it after all. It was her fault I was standing here beside Derek, the man I found obscenely attractive, the man who made my pulse race and my thoughts scatter, the man I suspected might have beaten my ex-husband within an inch of his life.
The man I was terrified I was falling for.
When I turned back to Derek, he was handing the baby over to Jack. He stood up in front of me, and suddenly he was too close. Too tall. Too intense.
His hand settled on my arm, and an electric current shot through me immediately. My instinct was to pull away, but I couldn’t move. I stood frozen under his touch, under the weight of his gaze.
“Can we talk?” I blurted out.
Derek didn’t answer right away. He stared into my eyes, and I would have given anything at that moment to know what he was thinking. But I could see it in the set of his jaw, in the way his fingers tightened just slightly on my arm.
He knew.
He knew what I was going to ask.
Jack stuffed something into Derek’s hand and said with a grin, “Use my office. Third door on the right.”
Derek’s hand slid down my arm to my wrist, his fingers wrapping around it possessively. He didn’t pull me. He didn’t have to. I followed him down the hall, my heart hammering so hard that I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.
He found the door quickly and pushed the key into the lock. The click of the lock disengaging felt loud in the hallway, even though we could still hear the music from the main room.
The door swung open, and I hesitated.
This was it. Once I walked through that door, there was no going back. I would know the truth. And the truth would change everything.
I closed my eyes, trying to gather my strength. My feet shuffled inside, and I turned as Derek closed the door behind him.
We were alone.
Just like in the bathroom of the restaurant.
Only this time, there was no woman hiding in a stall. This time, it was just us. And the weight of everything unsaid between us.
Neither of us moved. We stood there in Jack’s office, staring at each other, both afraid to speak first.
The last time we were close enough to talk was in the diner when he’d stormed off after I told him what Richard had done to Frankie.
“Do you blame me?”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Blame you for what?” he asked.
“For what happened to Frankie,” I replied. “Because I didn’t keep her safe.”
“Fuck no, Kat.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Richard is the one to blame. He’s the motherfucker who hurt you both.”
“Did you do it?” I blurted out.
The words hung in the air between us, sharp and accusing.
Derek’s face paled.
“Did you hurt Richard?”
His jaw tightened. For a moment, I thought he might deny it. Might lie to me. Might tell me I was crazy for even thinking it.
But then his eyes dropped to the floor, and he nodded.
The breath left my lungs in a rush.
