“I broke up with Jake, married Andrew and of course, that put an end to their business plans.”
Shelby’s head slowly moved from side to side. She covered her mouth with one hand. “I can’t believe this.” She turned those blue eyes, now shiny with tears, on Jake. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because…because…”
Why the fuck hadn’t he told her that?
Because he was a stupid fucking dickhead idiot, that’s why. He’d only been trying to help, trying to keep Andrew from hurting her and possibly hurting Gianna. He’d been stupid to not be upfront with her at the start. But none of that came out, his heart racing so fast he could hardly breathe, sweat pouring off him enough to fill the damn beer mug sitting on the table in front of him, a dark, scary feeling of doom creeping over him.
He must look guilty as hell to Shelby, and okay, yeah, he did feel guilty. Fuck, he was such an asshole, but even more than guilt he felt terror—terror that he had hurt her, that he might have messed up the best thing that had happened to him in…well, ever.
“Oh hell,” Andrew said to Shelby. “I thought you knew.”
Jake shot Andrew a glare.
“Shelby.” He pushed to his feet, the chair scraping back on the wooden floor. She stepped back from him, eyes flashing, mouth tight. “Shelby, please, let’s talk…”
“Are you kidding me?” she cried. Jake was vaguely aware of the attention they were receiving from other bar patrons. But who gave a shit? “Were you using me to get back at him?” Her eyes narrowed. “You bastard!”
“Wait a minute,” Gianna said. She frowned at Andrew. “Using her to get back at you? Oh my god! So that’s why you’ve been working such long hours!”
“Oh no.” Andrew held up a hand, shaking his head. “You are not turning this on me.”
It was like watching a train wreck.
Jake turned his attention back to Shelby, hating the look on her face. He wanted to deny her accusation, tell her it wasn’t true, he hadn’t been using her.
But the truth was—he had. Not the way she thought—but he had been using her.
Shelby could hardly hear over the roaring in her ears, a red haze floating in front of her vision. Pure rage swelled inside her so huge she actually felt a need to do physical violence. She wanted to lunge at Jake, hit him, punch him, scratch him. The pain in her chest took her breath away, squeezing her so tightly.
“You fucking bastard,” she said again, this time quieter, through lips stiff with control. And she turned on one spiky heel and walked out of the bar. She could hardly see anything in front her, almost blind with fury, and bumped into one person, stumbled over another’s foot. She didn’t even try to apologize, just had to get the hell out of there.
On the street, she set off walking, the fastest steps she could in her heels, almost running down the sidewalk, clutching her purse under her arm. A coolness on her cheeks told her she was crying. People shot her strange looks, but she didn’t care.
She flew across the street, heedless of the red light and the honking car that narrowly missed her, wondering if she was going to throw up right there on the sidewalk of downtown Rocky Harbor, her stomach hard and tight.
Last night she’d been ready to tell Jake she loved him.
The wrenching pain made her sob out loud, and she stumbled into the parking garage where her car was, clattered up two flights of concrete stairs, panting, sobbing and cursing under breath.
How had he known who she was? How had he known she worked for Andrew? To be able to insinuate himself into her life like that? That picnic must have been very convenient for him. A small growl rose from her throat.
And no wonder Andrew had been pissed off when he’d seen who she was dating. Why hadn’t he said anything? He’d just changed the subject, and then Jake had lied.
He’d outright lied to her!
Well, okay, more by omission, but still it was the same thing. The only reason he’d wanted to keep seeing her was because he thought Andrew wanted her and he wanted to pay him back for stealing his girlfriend.
Another sharp stab of pain lanced through her as she started her car and roared out of the parking structure way too fast. She had to get home. Before she fell completely apart.
Inside her apartment, she shut the door, locked it, walked into her bedroom and threw herself facedown on the bed and inhaled the scent of…Jake.
The citrusy bergamot and lime scent of his shampoo and body wash and the unique male scent of his skin marked her bedding. With another sob, she kicked her shoes off and rolled herself up in the covers, her nose buried in the soft sheets, torturing herself with the memories his scent evoked in her, letting pain wash over her.
Hadn’t she cried enough the last few days? Dammit, this was too much.
She’d even dared to dream she and Jake could have something as special and rare and beautiful as Adam and Kiara had.
A fresh wave of sobbing overtook her and she cried until the covers were damp with her tears.
Chapter Nineteen
Jake stared at the cell phone sitting on his kitchen counter. He popped the top off another beer and drank deeply. A row of empties sat on the counter. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
He had fucked up. Royally. Monumentally.
He wanted to pick up the phone and call Shelby. He ached to talk to her. But how the hell was he going to explain himself?
He didn’t deserve her. Just as he’d always known, he didn’t deserve anyone. After Gianna had dumped him, it had reinforced his bone-deep certainty that he wasn’t worthy of any kind of lasting, meaningful relationship and he’d proceeded to fuck his way through a string of unimportant bed partners, knowing, as he always had, that every woman he cared about would leave him. So he didn’t care. And he always left first.
He totally deserved what he was now getting. Which was a big fat nothing.
He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, slouched against the cupboards, and drank more of the beer. Last night had felt full of so much promise for him and Shelby. It had felt real. It had felt important. But real and important only meant heartbreak when she decided to leave him, as he knew she would. So it was just as well this had happened. Except he truly did regret hurting Shelby. He’d hurt women in the past, and he never liked it, but this was like a giant fist squeezing his heart.
And earlier in his office, he’d come to terms with what he needed to do. He’d quit his job. It was scary but exciting, it was what he’d always wanted and he’d let himself be miserable for too long.
Now, that all held little appeal without Shelby there to share it with. Shit. Like Drew had said, what did he have to lose? Nothing, that’s what. He had nothing.
He picked up the cell phone, flipped it open, found her number. Stared at it. Snapped the phone shut. Nah, he couldn’t do it. She was better off without him and it would only have been a matter of time before she dumped him anyway, before she called off the deal once she didn’t need him anymore.
Shelby sat in her cubicle the next morning staring blankly at the gray divider.
She should have just called in sick, like she’d wanted to. She did feel sick. Very sick. She pressed a hand to her stomach.
She could be coming down with the flu. Her entire body hurt, especially her head. Her eyes felt gritty and raw, so much that she’d actually worn her hated glasses to work. There was no way she could get contacts into her swollen eyes. She rolled her eyes at herself. Crying herself to sleep like a besotted teenager. Geez. Surely to god she was past that kind of foolishness.