pounded through her. She shot out of her seat and snatched her purse from the table. “God, your mother must be so proud. She raised a real gentleman. I’m glad you had a good time making fun of me tonight, but I’m done with this.”
She yanked his shirt from around her neck and shoved it at him.
“You’re dropping the story?” he asked smugly. “Just because I got you all turned on?”
She scoffed. “I’m not turned on. I’m pissed. And no, I’m not dropping the story. You would love that, wouldn’t you?”
He shrugged.
“You owe me two hours of interview time tomorrow at the location of
my
choice. I’ll meet you at your hotel at lunchtime.” She turned on her heel and stomped off to get a cab.
He called after her, but she pretended not to hear.
***
Aubrey slept until ten Sunday morning, exhausted after two late nights in a row. Despite not drinking, she felt hungover. She forced herself out of bed and into the shower, hoping that the hot water would revive her. Even after a night’s sleep, thoughts of Lex continued to assault her. The way he’d looked stripped down to just his jeans, the teasing confidence in his eyes. She hadn’t been able to decide what she wanted to do more—punch him in the face or drop to her knees and rip the rest of those clothes off.
She groaned and pressed her forehead against the tile, letting the hot water run over her tense muscles. Maybe she just needed to get laid. Two years without sex and five years without a real relationship could drive anyone to the brink. She glanced at her handheld shower attachment, pondering, and then shook her head. Self-help wasn’t going to cut it this time. And she’d be damned if she was going to let herself get off to thoughts of that jerk. He didn’t deserve to star in her fantasy. Not after the way he’d toyed with her to get her to drop the story. Asshole.
After showering, she wrapped herself in a towel and started to comb the knots out of her hair, but jumped when a loud banging filled the house. The comb clattered to the floor.
“What the hell?” She tossed her towel and shrugged on her fluffy blue robe. When she reached the front of her duplex, she peeked through the peephole. Her stomach lurched, and her knees threatened to give out from under her.
Motherfucker, son of a bitch.
Every curse word she knew zipped through head. She took a deep breath and briefly considering ignoring the unexpected visitor. But she knew he wasn’t the type of guy who would go away that easily. And she refused to be a coward. She cracked the door open. “What are you doing here?”
Grayson tucked his hands into the pockets of his chinos and smiled. “Well, it’s nice to see you, too, Aubs.”
With a sigh, she opened the door the rest of the way, and he strolled past her without an invitation, the familiar smell of his Polo cologne following him in. The scent brought back memories of her crying into one of the sweatshirts he’d left behind at her place when he’d moved. God, she’d been so pathetic after he’d left. She couldn’t even bear to think about that version of herself.
Grayson sank down on her well-worn couch and draped his arm across the back of it as if he’d never left her life. He looked like he had stepped off a yacht, his hair golden, his skin sun-kissed. She hated that he still looked so good. He was supposed to have developed a potbelly and male pattern baldness by now. Where was karma when you needed it?
“Hi,” she said, no welcome in her voice. “How’s Florida?”
“Hot.” He patted the spot next to him. “Lonely.”
She didn’t move, just glared.
He sighed and leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees. “Okay, I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t fair.”
“No, it wasn’t. If I remember correctly, the last time I saw you, you couldn’t get there fast enough.”
He winced like she’d pinched him. “I know, I’m sorry about how things ended up, but I think we both needed
She yanked his shirt from around her neck and shoved it at him.
“You’re dropping the story?” he asked smugly. “Just because I got you all turned on?”
She scoffed. “I’m not turned on. I’m pissed. And no, I’m not dropping the story. You would love that, wouldn’t you?”
He shrugged.
“You owe me two hours of interview time tomorrow at the location of
my
choice. I’ll meet you at your hotel at lunchtime.” She turned on her heel and stomped off to get a cab.
He called after her, but she pretended not to hear.
***
Aubrey slept until ten Sunday morning, exhausted after two late nights in a row. Despite not drinking, she felt hungover. She forced herself out of bed and into the shower, hoping that the hot water would revive her. Even after a night’s sleep, thoughts of Lex continued to assault her. The way he’d looked stripped down to just his jeans, the teasing confidence in his eyes. She hadn’t been able to decide what she wanted to do more—punch him in the face or drop to her knees and rip the rest of those clothes off.
She groaned and pressed her forehead against the tile, letting the hot water run over her tense muscles. Maybe she just needed to get laid. Two years without sex and five years without a real relationship could drive anyone to the brink. She glanced at her handheld shower attachment, pondering, and then shook her head. Self-help wasn’t going to cut it this time. And she’d be damned if she was going to let herself get off to thoughts of that jerk. He didn’t deserve to star in her fantasy. Not after the way he’d toyed with her to get her to drop the story. Asshole.
After showering, she wrapped herself in a towel and started to comb the knots out of her hair, but jumped when a loud banging filled the house. The comb clattered to the floor.
“What the hell?” She tossed her towel and shrugged on her fluffy blue robe. When she reached the front of her duplex, she peeked through the peephole. Her stomach lurched, and her knees threatened to give out from under her.
Motherfucker, son of a bitch.
Every curse word she knew zipped through head. She took a deep breath and briefly considering ignoring the unexpected visitor. But she knew he wasn’t the type of guy who would go away that easily. And she refused to be a coward. She cracked the door open. “What are you doing here?”
Grayson tucked his hands into the pockets of his chinos and smiled. “Well, it’s nice to see you, too, Aubs.”
With a sigh, she opened the door the rest of the way, and he strolled past her without an invitation, the familiar smell of his Polo cologne following him in. The scent brought back memories of her crying into one of the sweatshirts he’d left behind at her place when he’d moved. God, she’d been so pathetic after he’d left. She couldn’t even bear to think about that version of herself.
Grayson sank down on her well-worn couch and draped his arm across the back of it as if he’d never left her life. He looked like he had stepped off a yacht, his hair golden, his skin sun-kissed. She hated that he still looked so good. He was supposed to have developed a potbelly and male pattern baldness by now. Where was karma when you needed it?
“Hi,” she said, no welcome in her voice. “How’s Florida?”
“Hot.” He patted the spot next to him. “Lonely.”
She didn’t move, just glared.
He sighed and leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees. “Okay, I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t fair.”
“No, it wasn’t. If I remember correctly, the last time I saw you, you couldn’t get there fast enough.”
He winced like she’d pinched him. “I know, I’m sorry about how things ended up, but I think we both needed
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