Page 35 of These White Lies

My head lifts, startled by the metaphor and how well it fits. “That is oddly profound. Do you moonlight as a therapist when you’re not providing sexual escapades to random women?”

His grin is crooked. “No. Just a man who knows what it feels like to stand exactly where you are. But I can’t take credit for that one. Muhammed Ali.”

Our eyes lock, and something flickers between us.

“Are you a boxer?” I ask, thinking of his tattoo and the metaphor. With his body, it would be easy to believe.

He chuckles. “Not professionally. But good try.”

“Will you tell me your name? I’ll tell you mine.” I add hurriedly when his eyes shutter. I know the answer before he even says it.

“It’s not a good idea.” He sighs.

Embarrassed, I push to my feet and hate that he doesn’t stop me. “I should probably call for a car.”

He catches my hand. “It’s the timing, Firefly. I swear that’s all it is.”

“Right.” I force a smile, the glow I’ve been basking in turning to ice. “I understand.” Stopping before I get to the door, I turn back to face him, because I’ll hate myself if I don’t say it—if I leave things on this heavy note.

“Well, mystery man, thank you again for tonight. I don’t know if you dropped truth serum in the scotch, but I said things to you I’ve never said to anyone. And it felt wonderful.” I smirk to cover the ache in my chest. “The other felt pretty incredible, too.”

He doesn’t laugh. If I knew him better, I might think he looked sad. “No truth serum. Tonight, we could be whoever we wanted. Even if it was our true selves.”

His gaze burns into me across the room, and my heart stutters because he’s right. I was more open with him in every way than I ever was with Keith, and his words make me wonder if it was true for him as well.

“Anonymity making us bold?”

“Something like that.”

“I think you might be right.” I keep a smile on my face though it’s killing me.

“I think,” he says, his voice more serious than I’d heard it, “that you’re a remarkable woman and stronger than you believe.” He lets out a heavy breath. “And I wish I’d met you anywhere but here.”

My breath catches. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know what I see,” he says simply, his eyes meeting mine.

I swallow hard. “What do you see?”

“Someone who is going to get off the mat and take her power back.”

9

BRADY

“Elizabeth!” I slam my palm against the steel doors, but it’s already humming its way down to the lobby.

“What’s happening?”

“She just closed the elevator on me.”

Finn smothers a snort, and I hang up on him as I sprint for the door to the stairwell, slamming it open so hard it rattles in the frame. I take the stairs two at a time.

“Stubborn woman,” I seethe.

I fucking told her to wait, and she didn’t.

A voice in the back of my head tells me it’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t lost my temper and handled it so clumsily, she wouldn’t have bolted.