Dirty Deeds (Mechanics of Love #3)(31)

Alex smiled. “Best idea ever.”

BY THE TIME Alex rolled out of bed the next morning, she had a hangover and she was still thinking about Spencer.

Brent had shown up to take Ivy home last night, while she giggled and told him she liked his face and his butt as he dragged her intoxicated butt out the door.

Designated drivers were great.

Alex, however, was alone, and now that the wine was no longer making her happy, she was right back to being miserable.

Even Robby hadn’t had this effect on her. When she left him, she’d been plagued with fear and regret for staying with him for as long as she did. She’d never been filled with longing. She’d never missed him. At least, not the way he’d been in the end. She’d missed having someone, but that certainly wasn’t Robby.

Now, she didn’t just miss having someone, she missed having a very certain someone. She missed Spencer. His voice and that accent. The sound of his car. The way he touched her, the way she could touch him. The whole package. She missed him.

That asshole.

By the time she managed some coffee and some food, she’d made up her mind to go to his hotel room. Because that wasn’t his turf. It was her turf. This whole damn town was her turf. She needed answers and she needed closure and until she got it, she wasn’t sure she could move on.

She pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then tugged a hoodie over top. She wanted to be comfortable, dammit. But, of course, she smeared her trusty red lipstick on her lips and lined her eyes with eyeliner and applied mascara.

When she looked in control—even though she felt nothing like it inside—she got in her truck and made her way to the Tory Inn.

When she pulled into the parking lot, she silently conceded that the town could use another hotel. There were a couple of cracks along the foundation. One window was boarded up. Okay, so it was worse than Alex had thought. She had a little chuckle thinking about Penny staying here, then hopped down out of her truck.

She didn’t bother stopping at the front desk. She remembered Spencer’s room number—333. She rode the elevator by herself, which had no tinny Muzak.

The lights in the hallway were dim, the carpet a little stained and ripped in places. When she reached the door of Spencer’s room, she noticed the second three was a little crooked. She focused on that, took a deep breath, and knocked.

Nothing.

No sound at all.

Not running water, not footsteps, not the TV. She knew, because she pressed her ear to the door.

Her stomach rolled uneasily. Had he left? Like an idiot, she hadn’t even looked around for his car in the parking lot. Her palms began to sweat, and her knees shook. No, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be her big grand fuck you. Where she’d look composed and kinda pretty and she’d tell him off. And now—

“Alex?”

Her name didn’t come from in front of her, where she still stared at the closed door. It came from her side. She turned slowly to see Spencer standing in the hallway, jacket on, holding his bags, key card in his hand.

They stared at each other for a moment. He blinked rapidly at her, like he wasn’t sure he was seeing things right. “I, um, was about to leave actually, then realized I left my phone charging in the room.” He held up his key card. “Want to, um, come in?”

She nodded, wishing he didn’t look so damn good in his suit and coat, so posh with his dark hair slicked back, his jaw stubbled.

A silver watch peaked out from beneath his shirt.

The hot British fucker.

Spencer took a step toward her and she stepped back, well away so he had room to unlock the door. He frowned a little at the distance between them, but she didn’t apologize. That distance was his fault. Not hers.

But yet as he opened the door and motioned for her to go in ahead of him, she wasn’t so sure she had the upper hand.

Although she didn’t think he did either.

It was like they were always destined to be completely lost around one another. Since this would be the last time she ever saw him, she didn’t dwell on it, and walked into his hotel room.

HE NEVER LEFT his possessions behind. He traveled so much that he had a system to prevent things like this from happening. But as he heard Alex’s breathing near him, he was so grateful for whatever made him leave his phone charging on a small table by the window.

The funny thing was, she was the reason he left his phone. He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts, with everything that had happened the day before, that his entire system had been off.

He’d cursed it when he realized in the elevator that he’d left it. And now he was praising it.

He dropped his bags on the bed and turned around as he took his jacket off and threw it on top of his bag.

Alex stood near the door and watched him steadily, her hands shoved into the front pocket of her sweatshirt, her hood pulled up over her head. It shaded her eyes, made the blue irises sharper, the red of her lips brighter.

She looked beautiful, even just standing there in her boots, jeans, and sweatshirt.

But damn, she was here. She was actually here, and she wasn’t screaming at him or throwing things or clawing his eyes out, so he figured even if she heard him out and then turned and walked out of his life, at least they had closure.

Which still made his chest ache.

He took a deep breath and said the only thing that mattered. “I’m sorry.”

She stared at him, and didn’t move or say a word. So he figured that was his cue to keep talking. Which he did, haltingly. “Yes, the Payton land was on my list, but I immediately discounted it. I didn’t recommend it at all and, in fact, it was the last on my list. I hadn’t known but my boss pitted Nick and me against each other for a promotion, and Tory was the competition site. Nick was in favor of the Payton location and said so, but I was . . . confident that I’d win. Overconfident. I’m good at my job, Alex. That’s why I have the money I do. That’s why I have no life but this job. So I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t think my boss would agree with Nick in any way and . . . ” He blew out a breath and hiked his hands on his hips. “I was wrong. I was wrong, and Nick is an asshole, and I’m sorry for that. I’m so, so sorry.”

She blinked at him. “So you knew.”

“I did know. And looking back, I should have told you. I didn’t because of my ego, and that’s a mistake I’ll have to live with.”

She looked away before meeting his gaze again. “Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

She looked like she wanted to say more as she bit her lip. He wanted to touch her, one last time. Run his fingers through her hair, over the soft skin of her cheek. “This was ending anyway. So now it ends.”

The finality of her statement cut him like a saber slash across the chest. “But you didn’t want it to end this way, and I didn’t either.”

She came alive then, as color rose to her cheeks and her hands dropped to her sides and gripped her thighs. “Of course I didn’t want it to end this way. For once I wanted to be right about a man, to know for myself that my internal meter for finding men wasn’t stuck on asshole. I know it was selfish to want this. But I gave everything once to a man who didn’t deserve it. I was so close to doing it all again, but with a man who does deserve it. Or so I thought. Was I wrong?”

He should end it now, as a gift to her. Tell her that he didn’t deserve it. And maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t the best man. But he knew a couple of things for certain and she should know those things. And even though he would be laying it all out there, baring his heart, he didn’t want her to think she chose the wrong man. Again.

So he stepped closer, close enough that she had to lift her chin to meet his eyes. His sprite didn’t take a step back, though, no way. Her eyes, while wet, were blazing, and her jaw was set. He admired her even more for that.

“I don’t know if I deserved it. All I know is that you deserve a man who loves and respects you, and that was me. That is me, Alex. Every part of me loves every part of you. And even though this won’t work, even though I know we don’t have a future, I can’t leave with you thinking you gave your heart to someone who didn’t cherish it. I’ll remember all my life that I was worthy enough to have a few weeks of your time.”

She was cracking, he could see it by the wobble in her lower lip, by the drop of moisture threatening to spill over her bottom lashes. But then she dropped her gaze, sniffed, and wiped her sleeve across her nose.

He stepped back, giving her space, even though every part of him wanted to pull her into his arms. She wouldn’t want that, though. Every line of her tense body screamed, Don’t touch.

It hurt him to listen.

When she looked up, there were a couple of tear tracks on her cheeks and her nose was red. Her lip still trembled but she pieced herself together before his eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for this ending. This one here, with those words you just said. It’s a good ending. A good ending to the best couple of weeks I’ve ever had.”

And then, with jerky steps, she stood in front of him, and he bent down. Her lips grazed his cheek and then she was at the door, opening it up, before looking back at him over her shoulder. “Have a safe trip back to New York, and have a happy life, Spencer. You gave me mine back.”