“I’ve got this,” I say, not prepared to feed Lainey to the lion. Besides, I want answers, and I’m not prepared to wait for them. I take Lainey’s arm and lead her away through the building crowd before Sal can object. I’m not bothered what he makes of this.
“Tyler,” he calls after me, outraged.
“I said I’ve got it,” I shout back. “You need to calm down, and Lainey needs some ice on her cheek.”
Pulling Lainey down the corridor, I catch sight of Gina escorting the woman onto the elevator, so I slow a little, making sure the doors are closed before I take Lainey past and provoke the mad cow again.
Once the coast is clear, I guide her into my office and close the door behind me, taking her to the couch and sitting her down. What I want to do is demand she talks and puts my mind at rest, but human nature kicks in, and I go to my bathroom to wet a face cloth instead, taking it to her and resting it on her red cheek. She hisses, jumping a little, but she refuses to look at me, evading my eyes like she could disintegrate if she catches sight of me.
I give her time, holding the compress to her face until she’s ready to talk, but after too many minutes of awkward silence, I figure that she’ll never be ready to talk. “You okay?” I ask, a stupid question, I realize, but I need something easy to break the quiet. But not easy enough it seems. She doesn’t answer, staring blankly at the floor. “Lainey?” I ask, moving in toward her, trying to make her feel comfortable. I’ve gotten to know her well enough to know that if I handle this wrong, she’ll bolt. “Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” She looks up at me, and the hopelessness in her glassy eyes pains me.
I swallow, bracing myself to ask the questions I don’t want to know the answers to. “Did you have an affair with that woman’s husband?”
She shakes her head. “It wasn’t an affair. There was one encounter. He wanted it to be more and started pursuing me. I met him last night to make it clear that I wasn’t interested.”
“He’s fallen in love with you.”
“Or lust.” She shrugs.
I don’t correct her. He’s in love with her after that one encounter. I can relate. I think I fell that quickly, too. “Did you know he was married?”
Her silence answers my question, and so does her need to look away from me.
I try to breathe some calm into me. “Which one was he?” I ask, pulling her eyes back to me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean of all the men I’ve seen you with, which one was he?”
She nibbles on her lip nervously, again looking away from me.
Realization hits me. “None of them?” I blurt, unable to keep the shock from my voice. “Wow, Lainey. I didn’t think there was a player in the world who could play harder than me.” I slump back on the couch, avoiding mentioning that I never got involved with married women. She doesn’t need to hear that, and I definitely don’t feel like a slap right now. I already feel like I’ve been cuffed around my face a few stinging times already. I’m at a loss for words.
“I should probably get going.” She’s up and halfway across my office before her words sink in, making a dash for the door.
She’s quick.
But I’m quicker.
Even with a busted fucking foot. I’m blocking the exit of my office before she makes it there, a look of utter disbelief on my face. “Get going where?” I question as her feet stutter to a stop in front of me.
“Well, I doubt I have a job anymore,” she says to the floor. Her cowardliness enrages me. She has a habit of spiking these feelings in me. Run. It’s her answer every time. What is it with this woman? She keeps swinging from all in to not fucking in at all. It’s sending me crazy.
“What about a boyfriend, Lainey? Do you still have one of those?” I shouldn’t be mad that her first worry is the status of her employment, but I am. What about me?
She looks up through her lashes. “I don’t know. Do I?”
“That depends on whether you actually want one.” I lean into the door, feeling emotionally drained. We’re constantly going back and forth over the same thing. “Do you still want one?”
“I don’t want one,” she says quietly. “Not just any one. I want you. If you still want me.”
I’m comforted, but still so fucking muddled. “If I still want you?” I ask, taking the tops of her arms. “Lainey, when have I ever given you the impression that I don’t want you? Even now? I’ve listened to what you’ve said, and though I’m shocked, I knew you had a history. Jesus, I’ve fucking seen you with most of them. And it’s not like I can talk. Between us, we’ve probably worked our way through most of London’s single population.” The red hand mark on her cheek reminds me that Lainey’s not only been through single men, but I ignore it, moving on before she tries to bolt again. “I can get over it. Just tell me there’s no other shocks on the horizon.”
Her tearful eyes fill with hope as I release the tops of her arms. “Don’t let go of me,” she whimpers, moving into me. “Please.”
I sigh and seize her, hauling her into my front and crushing her to my body. “I love you,” I say sternly.
Her head nods in my hold, her arms grappling at my back to hold me closer. “I told you I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” I feel drained. I never knew love could be this fucking exhausting. And this fucking chaotic, either.
“All in,” she whispers.
“Then stop fucking running away from me.” I pull out and hold her securely in front of me. “Whatever’s happened in your past is something I have to accept, but as long as it stays in your past.”
“It will,” she says.
“Mine too.” I drop a light kiss on her cheek. Now all I need to do is deal with Sal. He didn’t look at all happy once he’d picked his mouth up off the floor after that showdown, but I’m not having him laying into Lainey and making her explain herself again.
I wipe under her eyes. “Get yourself a coffee. I’m going to pacify Sal.”
“Are you going to tell him about us?”
I laugh under my breath. “No. Not now. I think he’s had enough for one day, without our little bombshell. So you get your way.” I run my thumb down her cheek gently.
“I still want to tell him, Ty. Please, let me tell him. Promise me.”
“Even now?” I’m a little stunned by her determination.
“Yes.” She nods, adamant.
“Okay,” I relent, admiring her gusto. “Come on.”
She looks at the door as she backs toward the couch. “I think I’d rather hide in here.”
I don’t blame her. The blemish on her cheek is glowing, and the office will be gossiping already. “Why don’t you go home? Put today behind you and start afresh tomorrow?”
“But Sal—”
“I’ll deal with Sal. Go home. I’ll get Gina to fetch your coat and bag and bring it here for you.”
“Thank you.” She smiles. “I don’t deserve you.”
What rubbish, and a massive part of the problem. She seriously undervalues her self-worth. It’s my job to reinstate it. “I’ll call you later.”