4. Gwen #2
I freeze when his minty breath fans across my lips. Without thinking, I swipe my tongue across them and watch as his gaze dips to my mouth and back. My brain glitches, and all I can think about is leaning into him and pressing my mouth to his pink, pouty lips.
“Are you going to answer me or not?”
Trying to get my bearings, I make the mistake of sucking in a deep breath. Lance’s peppery citrus cologne triggers the memory receptors in my brain, and my body’s automatic response is for my clit to pulse and my pussy to weep.
“I thought you knew. I wasn’t keeping my identity a secret.” My response is weak and only half true. I knew Lance didn’t know who I was.
“Obviously I didn’t, and you sure as hell made no effort to tell me,” he seethes.
“Lance, I’ve been working for the team since July. I’ve been Cameron Miller’s assistant for the last five months. I was at the staff celebration party. Everyone knows who my father is. It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention to the details.”
“Cut the shit. You lied to me. Did you do it on purpose?” He pushes off the wall and puts distance between us.
I instantly feel the loss of him, and his heat, leaving me chilled to the bone.
“Do what on purpose?” I answer, confused by the question.
Anger pours off him in waves as he snarls, “Did you fuck me to get back at Daddy?”
Just like that, the chill I felt is replaced with burning, fiery anger.
His suggestion that I slept with him to piss off my dad is so insulting. He doesn’t know me that well, but from our conversations that night, he should know I would never do something like that. Especially when it could hurt someone I care about.
“Fuck you, Taylor. I did not lie, and no, I did not sleep with you to get back at my father. I can’t believe you would even say that to me after everything I told you. I slept with you because—” I cut myself off.
“Because?” Lance presses.
The words are on the tip of my tongue.
I wanted to. I’ve had a huge crush on you for years. I think you’re amazing and that there is so much more depth to who you are. But refuse to let people see it.
All I can come up with is: “It’s irrelevant now.”
He just insulted me in such a way that he doesn’t deserve to see my truth, or my heart.
“Then why did you disappear without a word the next day?” His question catches me off guard.
What the hell is he talking about? “I didn’t. I—”
Lance cuts me off before I can set the record straight. “You know what? I don’t need an answer. It’s over. And to be clear, withholding information is still lying.”
He’s right.
I did lie to him. A little.
It all just happened so fast. We were talking, and then we were in the cab.
All I could think about was how much I wanted him.
And for just one moment, all he wanted was me.
So, I went for it. I knew it was a bad idea.
But it’s not as though I didn’t drop about a hundred breadcrumbs for him to pick up along the way.
“Lance, I told you about my father and my brothers. Again, it’s not my fault you didn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together. But fine, I did not explicitly say my last name was Montgomery. So, you’re right. Are you happy now?”
“Well, fucking great. Thanks for the apology. Your little stunt could get me fired, little girl,” he growls. He places his hands on his hips and grills me with his blue eyes, as if he wants to squash me like a bug.
Little girl?
How dare he speak to me like to an errant child and not the grown-ass woman he did incredibly inappropriate things to. With? On?
All the hope I have been holding onto burns up like a match.
“You won’t get fired. I haven’t breathed a word about that night to anyone. What more do you want?”
I watch him panic-pace as he clutches the back of his neck in his palm. “What do I want? I want to go back and undo fucking you.”
His regret is a slap in the face. I fight the tears that sting the back of my eyes and the bridge of my nose.
Do not cry in front of him. Do not fucking cry.
I grasp onto every ounce of hurt and turn it into anger. For the first time since November, I’m happy he never got in touch with me. The last thing I need is another man in my life treating me as though I’m meaningless. As though I’m less than.
“You’re right. That night was a mistake. One I won’t make again. Now, excuse me, I have work to do. And, like you, I don’t want anyone to see us talking alone. Your career isn’t the only one on the line.”
The door swings open, and Maryse enters the room. “I’m sorry, I forgot my phone. Is there something you need, Mr. Taylor?”
I slip on a serene smile, pretending the man in front of me didn’t just crush me into a million pieces. “Of course not. Mr. Taylor was just asking if he could sign up for the adopt-a-pet project and the fall food drive. Isn’t that right, Mr. Taylor?”
In my periphery, I watch Lance’s jaw fall open. That’s right, you jerk. Guess I still have you by the balls.
“Really? That’s amazing. Thank you so much, Lance. It’s hard enough to get the guys to sign up for one event, but two? You do not know how much it means to the Evaders community.”
“Um, yeah, of course. If you’ll excuse me.” He rushes out of the conference room without a backward glance and with his tail between his legs.
Maryse sidles up next to me and rubs her stomach. “That’s so strange. Lance never signs up for events. Coach Anson usually forces him to attend the Christmas gala for the children’s hospital, let alone a community outreach program and the pet project.”
Still fighting the aching hole in my chest, I gather my laptop and the box of leftover folders and agenda packets. “I guess he had a change of heart this season.”
Maryse smirks. “Right. A change of heart.”
Ignoring the look on my boss’s face, I change the subject. “Tell me more about this Christmas gala?”
Maryse excitedly tells me about the gala, and I try with all my might to think about anything other than Lance-mother-freaking-Taylor.