So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(24)

“So, not all good grades and successes piled on top of one another?”

Jo pulls her hand free and tucks both of them under her thighs. “Not so much.”





SEVEN





The shops and restaurants wiz by as silence fills the space between Tyson and me. And I let it.

Eventually, he says, “And? Aren’t you going to elaborate on how life’s not been what I’d have thought?”

My lungs fill to the brim, and the air seeps out. I measure the seconds they take to deflate. “And nothing. Life hasn’t been easy…but it isn’t a cakewalk for anyone, right? Why should I escape the carnage of reality any more than the next person?”

“Carnage?” His tone says he’s surprised at my word choice.

My gaze meets his for a moment. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s ever had it rough?”

He pulls his hand from mine, and his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. “Of course not.”

I close my eyes and rub my temples. “I’m not discussing this with you. I hardly know you.”

And I’m not opening a vein and spilling the poisoned blood that flows inside. He doesn’t need to know that he’s chosen to get hitched to a broken bride.

Chosen.

My breath catches on those two syllables. I turn in my seat, searching his profile for an answer to my unasked questions. But there are no answers there.

So I ask, “Why did you choose me?”

“Choose you?” He glances my way. “You mean to marry?”

My soul cringes in the shadow that looms over the tiny spark of hope that wants to ignite. “Yes, why me?”

His grip tightens again. “I told you, because I don’t want a real marriage, and you don’t even like me. It’s the perfect setup. You get paid. I get my son. Maybe we’ll enjoy one another in the meantime, but in the end, no one gets hurt.”

The spark burns down to the tiniest ember.

I cross my arms and bite my bottom lip as I study him.

After a few moments, he shrugs. “Doesn’t that make sense to you?”

The ember goes dark.

But that’s best, I suppose. I really should have stomped it out before it ever lit in the first place.

“So, before, when you said we could be romantically involved, you meant what, exactly?”

“Physical. You know? I’m attracted to you. You’re attracted to me. We’re living under the same roof. It’s a win-win.”

“Just sex then?”

“If you want it.” He shoots me a sly grin.

I stare at him.

Ty gives a tiny shake of his head. “Look, Jo. I like you. I do. You’re a beautiful, bright woman. I’ve always thought so. But I won’t sell you a fairytale when I can’t deliver one. I can promise not to lie to you. I’ll even guarantee not to—how’d you put it—humiliate you? But I can’t do a real relationship. I don’t know how. I don’t even want to know.”

I nod. “Honesty is a good quality, and it’s appreciated.”

Guess we’re both broken.




I pile strawberries on top of the yogurt, adding ice until the blender is filled almost to the brim. Blueberry juice will make it perfect. Plopping the lid on, I hit the button. The blades spin, the ice crunches, and the swirl of the liquid rises to the top.

I turn to get my cup from the other counter. Something pops, and a cold splash soaks the back of my leg. I whip around as the blender sprays my smoothie all over the kitchen.

“Oh, crap!” I grab the lid from where it landed in a pool of pink slush, trying to cram it on top of the carafe before my entire treat gets fed to the cabinetry.

It doesn’t fit. Somehow, between ten seconds ago and now, the lid has changed shape or warped.

Strong arms come around me. Tyson takes the top from my hands and, in only one try, secures it over the blender.

Berry smoothie drips from the bottom of the upper cabinets. It puddles in several places over the floor at my feet. It drains down my leg, staining my white jeans. A laugh overrides whatever embarrassment I should feel at having made such a colossal mess.

Ty shakes his head. “This is funny?”

I cover my mouth, nodding as the giggles take over. When I manage to get my words together, I say, “Sorry. None of my mothers ever bothered to teach me anything domestic.”

He looks around his beautiful kitchen while rinsing his hands. He flings water from his fingers and chuckles. “You don’t get to cook here either.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? So are you hiring a chef?”

“Nope.” His eyes sparkle as he pulls me to him, leaning in close.

My giggles fade. A flutter in my chest stills me.

Tyson backs me to the counter. “Here, let me…”