Page 111 of Empire State Enemies
He pauses, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Clearly, he expected me to melt gratefully into his arms at the mere suggestion.
As I turn to leave, he catches my wrist. “At least let me drive you home. Consider it a peace offering. My car’s right outside.”
Part of me actually wants to grab this infuriating man and kiss him senseless. But that would make me an idiot.
We crossed a line, he kicked me out without even an Uber, and now Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sorry is back with apologies? Yeah, no.
What’s next? We gallop out of here on a white horse and ride off into the sunset while I’m still clutching this whip?
I give him a sharp nod, my voice laced with edge. “All right, you can give me a lift. But let’s get one thing straight—it’s on my terms, not yours.”
???
The ride in Connor’s high-end sports car is filled with a tense silence, only broken by the low purr of the engine.
He grips the steering wheel like he’s trying to strangle it.
I gaze out the window, the city lights blending into a stream of neon, wondering why he bothered tracking me down if he was just going to act like I’m invisible.
“First time at that club?” he finally says, not taking his eyes off the road.
“Yeah, decided to try something new. You probably have a dedicated VIP booth on retainer there.”
That cracks a small laugh out of him. “Been there a few times over the years. But I didn’t expect it to be your thing.”
I arch a brow. “What, you thought I’d be moping at home after you left me hanging last weekend?” My words come out more bitter than intended.
“Of course not,” he grumbles.
We drive on in loaded silence for a few blocks until he speaks up again, his voice deeper, tinged with something I can’t quiteplace. “Seeing you with that guy tonight . . . didn’t sit right with me. Couldn’t handle it.”
Hope thrums traitorously in my chest. I turn to fully face him. “So why push me away if it kills you to see me with someone else?”
Dead silence. Connor’s jaw works, the only sign he’s even listening.
“I don’t like the idea of sharing you,” he admits, his voice gravelly. “I know I shouldn’t say that. I don’t have any claim.”
My heart skips a beat at his raw admission. I lick my lips, suddenly dry. “What are you saying, Connor? What do you actually want from me?”
“Nothing,” he answers, voice flat, his expression closed off. “I don’t have any right to feel possessive.”
“You don’t want anything, but you don’t like seeing me with other guys?” I shoot back, my words sharp with resentment. “We said it was just a one-time thing. You see me out and suddenly you’re busting in like some jealous boyfriend?”
His jaw sets tight. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” I can’t help but scoff. “Then enlighten me, because this all looks pretty damn selfish from where I’m sitting.”
He stiffens, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Look, I have some things going on with me,” he grinds out cryptically.
I wait, but nothing more comes. “. . . that’s it?”
“That’s it. That’s all I can give you right now.”
I grip the seat belt tight, feeling its edge bite into my palm. “So, you brand me as a mistake, barge into my date, and think a lukewarm apology is gonna cut it?” I shake my head. “I should’ve known. You’re Connor Quinn—use and discard is your formula. Because you can, right? There’s always someone else willing to take the spot, no matter how you treat them.”
I lock eyes with him. “But I actually thought you’d be decent enough to show me some respect after. Looks like I was fooling myself.”
He turns, his face serious, almost tormented. “It’s not like that, Lexi. If you’re hunting for love and a fairy-tale ending, I’m not the guy.” He stops, struggling with his next words. “But I am sorry for acting like a jerk after we had sex. I’ve got some issues that are messing with my head.”
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