Page 143 of The Plus One Pact

For him, yes. And because I can’t face this. I can’t look him in the eyes.

What would I say?

How can I explain this?

No, I need to go, now, before I say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, make this worse somehow.

Better to go now, before it hurts worse, before it’s even messier.

I end the call.

I pack my stuff.I move down the stairs as quietly as possible.

I don’t hear a peep as I step out the door.

But I’m too slow. Romeo is there, outside, in front of my car. He figured it out. He saw the article. Or someone else did.

Does his family know? Did I ruin this for him?

His dark eyes fix on me. He expected me to run. He expected me to leave. He expected my cowardice.

I don’t know what to say, so I hug my bag a little closer.

He stares at me, giving me time to explain, to expand, to somehow justify my deception.

I don’t have anything, so I say what I can. “I didn’t mean for this to get so complicated.”

“No, better to keep it simple. Use me for your show. Leave before anyone figures it out.”

Is that really what he thinks this was? Does he think that little of me? “I’m operating under the terms of our agreement.”

“Really? I missed the part where you told me you’re broadcasting this to two million listeners.” There’s an edge to his tone. An anger I’ve never heard in it.

I don’t like it. I don’t like that I deserve it. I reach for something to balance myself. Proof things are fair. “You said anyone. As many people as I want.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His brow furrows. His shoulders stiffen. “You should have told me.”

Maybe. But I didn’t owe him anything when we agreed to this. “I thought you understood our agreement.”

Hurt streaks his eyes for a moment, then he stands up straighter, stiffer, locking me out. “Of course. You just wanted a good fuck. I wanted someone to take home. A fair arrangement. And now that you got what you wanted, you’re leaving.”

It’s not like that, but I don’t correct him. “I have to talk to Mer. I have to fix this. To make sure you’re not outed.”

“Is that really why you’re leaving?”

I nod, and I break his gaze, and I get in my car, and I try not to watch him as I walk away—around the corner, to somewhere I can call a car without looking at him.

But I do. I see the heartbreak on his face. I see the bullshit.

He doesn’t believe me.

After all, how could he? I don’t believe me either.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Romeo

Ishould call Ivy. Ask her to come back. I should give her a chance to explain without accusing her of the using me.