On a deep sigh, I relax my shoulders and stare at the charred ham.
Completely ruined.
All that hard work. All that prep. All that tasty, crispy smell.
Gone.
The email, the uncertainty, the ruined ham—the fact that I almost burned up in flames naked as the day I was born—it all comes crashing down on me, leaving me to sink to the floor into a pile of sodden emotions.
And even though the ham is the final kick to the crotch, that’s not what’s slowly draining the life from my body. That’s not what’s causing this ill feeling to bubble up inside me.
It’s the email.
The words “using him” flashing, making me feel like a complete idiot.
A lone tear falls down my cheek.
What’s bringing me the most grief? What I thought Dottie felt for me wasn’t really true.
I feel like a goddamn fool.
An idiot for thinking that this high-powered woman with work on her mind constantly could genuinely open her heart to me.
“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing my eye with my mitt-covered palm.
I take calming breaths and as air fills my lungs, anger filters into my veins. How many times has she told me I’m ridiculous? How often has she told me she should hate me but then said words to buffer the truth? I’m competitive by nature, but I’m not sticking around to attempt to win this. Win her. Because she doesn’t want to be won. At least, not by me.
Fuck this and fuck her.
I can’t be here any longer, and I sure as shit can’t be here when the Carltons arrive. No fucking way. Unlike a certain woman, I’m not a talented actor.
Standing, I toss the oven mitts to the ground and tear off my apron. Naked, I walk to Dottie’s bedroom and quickly put on my jeans and shirt. Without a word, I head to the living room and grab my shoes.
That’s when Dottie pops out of the bedroom in her robe, a confused look on her face. “Is something burning?”
I ignore her and finish tying my shoes. When I stand, she’s coming toward me, and even though it looks like she’s concerned, I honestly can’t tell if it’s real or not at this point.
“Jason, what’s wrong? Your eyes are bloodshot.” She glances over my shoulder. “Did something happen to the ham?”
“Yeah, it’s fucking charred. I wouldn’t serve it if I were you.”
I move past her and walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.”
She pads across the hardwood floors and steps in front of me. “Wait, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Her hand crawls up my chest and I grip her wrist, stopping her. Her eyes widen, and I slowly remove her touch from my body.
“No, it’s not okay.” I push my hand through my hair. “Care to tell me why I’m really here?”
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“Don’t act like you don’t fucking know.”
“Jason.” Her voice goes weak, scared. “I really don’t.”
“No?” I twist to the side and then back at her, distraught and so fucking angry that I’m about to lose my goddamn cool. “Then why the fuck is your dad emailing you about me, and saying he feels uncomfortable about you using me for your career?”
She stills, her breath catching in her throat as she looks toward her open computer.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” I go to move past her again, but she stops me with her hand to my chest. “I suggest you don’t fucking touch me right now, Dottie.”
“Jason, it’s not what you think.”
That’s what they always say.
“It’s not?” My brows shoot up to my hairline. “So you didn’t tell the Carltons we were dating before we actually were?”
She twists her hands together and looks off to the side. “I mean—”
“Get out of my fucking way.”
“Wait, please let me explain.”
“Why? So you can lie to me like you’ve been lying during our entire relationship?” My breath catches in my chest as a wave of pain hits me. “I really fucking liked you, Dottie, and all this, that email . . . you’ve crushed me.” Whispering and staring at the ground, I say, “You broke my heart.”
“I haven’t been lying to you,” she says, her voice full of sorrow. I glance up to see tears streaming down her face and for a brief second, I wonder if she’s telling the truth. “Everything we’ve felt between us, that’s been real. I was just in a tough spot a while ago. The Carltons weren’t going to consider my proposal because I wasn’t in a relationship. It was really stupid, and I panicked. I told them I was in one and dropped your name like an idiot.”
“And that’s why you came over to my apartment that night, to make a move, to try to make what you said a reality. Great. So glad I could be a part of your game.”
“I liked you before that,” she says. “I had such a bad crush on you in college and then seeing you again, years later, it all came flooding back. This wasn’t an overnight thing. This has been brewing inside me for a long time.”
“Yeah, that’s evident from the way you had security remove me from your office.” I drag my hand over my mouth and say, “Fuck, Dottie. Has this all been a goddamn joke to you?”
“No,” she sobs, trying to take my hand, but I whip it away. “This has been”—she wipes at her face, completely falling apart in front of me—“this has been so much more than I ever expected.”
“But how did it start?” I ask, wanting the truth.
“It . . .” Her lip trembles. “It started . . .”
“Fucking say it, Dottie.”
She reels back, as if my voice is venom splashing her face. Her face blanches, her tears roll down like a waterfall, and her hands shake as the clutches them to her chest. “It was—”
I put my hand up, unable to look at her anymore. “You know what? Save it. I’m done.”
“Wh-what?” she asks, her voice rocking with pain. “What do you mean, you’re done?”
“It’s exactly what it means. I’m done. We’re done,” I say with such finality that I convince myself of the words. “And you know what the real fucking kicker is? Out of everyone, you should know what it feels like to be used.” I point at her. “You should know the anguish, the heartache, the unfiltered pain it causes to find out you aren’t loved, you aren’t cared for . . . you’re just a pawn in someone’s game.” I look her up and down, disgust filling me. “I expected so much more from you, Dottie.”
I head to her door, opening it as she cries out in a sob. “Jason, please. Let me explain. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Dottie. You just broke my trust and there’s no coming back from that.”
Before she can say another word, I exit her apartment and head to mine. The entire drive, I fucking cry like an asshole. When I reach my door, I consider knocking on Knox and Emory’s door, but instead, I head inside my dark apartment and slide to the ground against my bed. Fuck. How did she fool me? How did she fucking fool her friends? They’ve known her for years. Years. I know they weren’t in on it.