“The charges?”
“Yeah. I got carried away. Put him in a coma. I told him to leave; I told him to walk away. I didn’t want to hurt him like that but he would not fucking listen.” I sucked in a sharp breath, willing myself to calm down. “I was charged with 1st Degree Assault and would potentially face jail-time. I hired Edward Maren, not remembering that Kenneth Walters was such a dick. We went to high school together and never got along. I was from the wrong side of the tracks. He and I never came to blows, but there was always tension. But earlier at the bar… that was a whole new level of dickheadedness from him.”
“Yeah,” she cringed. “About that… I used to be his secretary.”
“Just his secretary?” I asked playfully, though my blood was boiling just under the surface. I knew what was coming next.
“And we dated for a couple months. The first day I came into Dive…I had just broken it off with him.”
“I see.” I swallowed the anger I felt at imagining his hands on her, touching her, kissing her…shit. I couldn’t even think about him doing more without wanting to punch something.
“Being who he is, he obviously didn’t take it well, so I vowed to never get involved with my boss again. I can’t risk being out of a job again.”
I nodded, taking it all in. If she was being forthcoming, I wasn’t going to interrupt her.
She looked at the thin silver watch on her wrist, and something inside me twisted into a knot at the thought of losing her.
“Shit. I need to get home.”
“Oh, no you don’t. You’ve been drinking,” I interjected, pulling her arm from her gaze.
She rolled her eyes. “Just a glass of wine, Blaine. I’m fine.”
“And you just pulled a nonstop late shift. You look exhausted.” And sexy as hell.
“Gee, thanks,” she huffed. “So what do you propose? I can call a cab, I guess.”
“No.” I slid my grasp from her forearm and tangled my fingers with hers. “Stay with me. Tonight.”
“Blaine…”
“I’m not saying we have to do anything. Just sleep, like before. That was nice, right?”
She twisted her bottom lip before scraping it with her teeth. “I guess…yeah. It was nice.”
A triumphant smile tugged on the corner of my mouth. “And you know you’re safe with me, right? You know you can trust me.”
Again she worried that lip, looking away from my fixed gaze. Finally, she let out a shaky breath and nodded.
“Yes.”
Fuck. Yes.
That was all I needed to hear.
I squeezed her hand gently before climbing to my feet, pulling her up with me.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
What the hell was I doing? Was I losing my damn mind?
No, seriously. I had to be going bat-shit crazy.
Not only was I completely going against every rule I had ever set for myself, I had just told Blaine that I trusted him. Something I had never told any man, outside of Dom.
And what was even crazier? I really did trust him. Dammit, I trusted Blaine and wanted to spend the night with him. So much so, that I had let myself have that glass of wine, knowing he wouldn’t let me drive afterward.
I was going straight to hell. But first, I’d earn the ride.
“So this is it,” he said, ushering me into his bedroom. He swept an arm around the room like he was on an old episode of MTV Cribs.
“Where all the magic happens?” I asked, snickering at my own private joke.
Blaine shrugged sheepishly. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, no magic has happened in here…ever.”
I pursed my lips. “Bullshit.”
“No seriously,” he replied, holding up three fingers like some badass, rogue Boy Scout. “I just bought this place about a year ago.”
“Sooo… where do you entertain your…dates?”
He shook his head. “You don’t really want to have this conversation. Do you?”
“Guess not,” I shrugged. I really didn’t. But then again, the suspense might’ve killed me. I shook off the images of him and countless, faceless women sexing on the couch, and let my eyes roam his private space.
“Hey, what’s that?”
I walked over to his dresser where two pieces of folded, colored paper sat side by side. Holding up the crane, I cocked a curious brow.
Blaine shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “You said I could have one.”
I nodded and captured my lips between my teeth in an attempt to keep from grinning like the Cheshire cat. Then I traded the delicate crane between my fingertips for the lime-green flower that was once an advertisement for a car detailing shop.