By the time I left, the sun was peeking over the horizon and a slew of what-ifs were running rampant through my mind. None of which were good, and all of which ended with Anne.
I was a disaster.
With exactly zero hours of sleep under my belt, I started the next morning in the shittiest of shit moods.
And that was only the beginning of it.
“What do you want?” I greeted my visitor around a mouth full of apple as I opened my front door.
“Are you avoiding me?” Lexi asked, sliding past me.
“Well, come on in.”
I didn’t linger in the doorway. If Lexi was showing up at my door, she had something to say, and knowing her, she wouldn’t be letting it go until she said it—probably multiple times.
The clip of her heels followed me to the kitchen, where I was cooking my breakfast.
“You know, this really isn’t fair to me,” she said, stopping beside the 1970s barstools I had just finished refurbishing the day before. “Are these new?”
“New? No. New to me? Very. Now, cut the bullshit and tell me what exactly is not fair so we can get this over with. I need to eat and get to work.” I nabbed my spatula and flipped two eggs frying in a pan before setting it back down.
“Becky told me that she saw you at a bar with a woman last week.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked my head to the side as I propped a hip against the counter. “I’m not sure you can consider a party at Quint’s a bar.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
I knew what was coming.
Three, two, one…
“You’re making me look like an idiot!” she screeched, throwing her hands up in the air.
With her outburst, Sampson came barreling down the stairs only to come to a screeching halt when he caught sight of Lexi. He was a dog, but his disappointment was palpable. I couldn’t help but laugh; I shared those exact feelings.
“Stop laughing!” Lexi snapped.
My already-thin and sleep-deprived patience disappeared. I could’ve pretended that I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with her bullshit, but quite honestly, I just had no desire.
“Get out of my house,” I ordered, going back to cooking my eggs.
“Stop. You need to stop being stubborn and give us another chance. I know you’re pissed. I screwed up, and I’ve apologized at least a dozen times. But, Sam, we can’t just throw away what we had.”
“Excuse me?” I spun to face her, shocked by her nerve.
“You’re making me look like an idiot in front of our friends. When we get back together—”
I abruptly cut her off. “We are never getting back together.”
“Sam, I love—” She took a step toward me, but I pushed a hand out to halt her.
“I’m going to stop you right there. Listen up, because you obviously need to hear this—again.” I quirked an eyebrow. “I do not love you. I have never loved you. I will never love you.”
Her head jerked to the side as if I’d physically slapped her. Sure, it was harsh. But she clearly hadn’t heard me each time I had uttered those words over the last two months. Lexi Prior was a nice enough girl, or at least she had pretended to be for the six months we were dating. She was also gorgeous and used to getting exactly what—or, in this case, who she wanted.
But so was I.
And Lexi was no longer who I wanted in any regard.
“You need to take a step back and let this really sink in, Lex. This crazy-ex-girlfriend bit you have going on is not a good look for you.” Never tearing my eyes off her, I blindly found my coffee on the counter and calmly tipped it to my lips.
Unfortunately, Lexi was also determined. “Don’t act like that. You know you didn’t give us a fair shot. After Anne—”
Like an electrical shock, anger radiated through my body before finally firing from my mouth. “Get out!” I dropped my coffee cup in the sink and stormed to my front door, yanking it open.
“See! This is the problem. You lose your fucking mind at the mere mention of her name.”
“No. I lose my fucking mind when you mention her name. Big difference.” I snapped my fingers then pointed out the door.
Her eyes softened, and a tear escaped from the corner. “I apologized about that.”
My mouth gaped. Apparently, the crazy-ex-girlfriend thing wasn’t an act at all.
“You apologized? Ha!” Closing my eyes, I dug in my pocket for a cigarette. I didn’t usually smoke in my house, but it was either that or allow my head to explode. “You apologized?” I repeated to myself as I lit the end. Inhaling a long drag, I held it as long as possible, but the calming effect I was so desperately seeking never came.
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, reminding myself that she wasn’t even worth my anger. After the shit we’d been through, I should have been awarded a medal for even allowing her in my house at all. Just because I didn’t hold grudges didn’t mean I had to put up with her shit though.
Sucking in a deep breath, I found a very fake version of my inner calm. “Lexi, if I ever see you again, I’m going to do far more than embarrass you in front of our friends. You can spout whatever you want about us falling apart because I withdrew from our relationship. I won’t even bother lying and telling you that it’s not the absolute fucking truth. But I need you to listen closely right now, because I’m not doing this with you again. I’m done here, Lex. And, judging by the fact that you spent the morning before Anne’s funeral with your mouth wrapped around your personal trainer’s cock, you were done even before I was. Now, get the fuck out of my house, lose my number, and forget I exist. Because I sure as fuck have forgotten you.”
My smoke detector chose that moment to start blaring. Whether it was my cigarette or the eggs that had started to burn on the stove, I wasn’t sure. My only focus was on the woman unmoving across the room. She opened her mouth several times, but each time, I shushed her with a pointed glare. Finally, she gave up and stomped out. I was positive she wasn’t giving up though.
Christ!
I pinched the bridge of my nose and stared down at the floor. Sampson came over and nuzzled his thanks for getting rid of her against my leg—or maybe he just wanted his ears scratched. After snubbing my cigarette out on the sole of my boot, I headed to the kitchen to trash my breakfast, cursing Lexi for having trashed my morning.
And I did it worrying about a blond wig and shades that had trashed my night as well.
Two hours later, Henry Alexander’s latest album was blaring from the speakers in my workshop, until the room suddenly fell silent.
“Why do you listen to that shit?” Ryan asked, snatching up my iPod and scrolling through before landing on The Smashing Pumpkins.
After flipping my safety glasses off, I dropped the angle grinder into the claw-foot bathtub I was working on. “I like one song. Fuck off.”
“Bullshit. You love that crap. You’re such a bitch.” He walked toward me, dragging his hand over the smoothed edges of the porcelain.
“Says the man wearing a pastel-pink tie.”
He groaned. “Jen bought it for me. It’s hideous, but the first rule in attempting to sleep with your administrative assistant is: If she bought it, wear it.”
Lighting a cigarette, I asked, “What’s the second rule?”
He blew out a loud, frustrated breath. “I have no fucking clue. Covering my body in fucking tattoos and shoving a needle through the head of my cock? You prick.”
“Hey! She doesn’t know about that.”
“She better not!” Smoothing a hand over his short, brown hair, he mumbled in defeat, “I have no idea what to do with that woman. Any thoughts?”
“See, I thought the first rule of sleeping with your assistant is: Don’t. So I’m probably pretty worthless on the second.”
“Come on. It’s Jen.”
“Oh, I get it.” I tossed him a wink that he returned with an all-too-familiar glare.
Ryan had been obsessing over Jennifer Jensen since she’d walked into his office holding her résumé six months earlier. He was right—it was Jen, and she was fucking gorgeous. And, for that reason alone, I hadn’t immediately turned her down when she’d all but sexually assaulted me in the kitchen at Ryan’s office Christmas party. Ryan had been pissed when I’d told him later that night that she and I had shared a kiss (and a few gropes I’d purposely omitted from my confession). He’d blamed it on the tattoos and banned me from all future social gatherings.