More Than Want You
Page 52

I’m fucking doomed now. What if she never speaks to me again? What if… Oh, shit. What if I fell in love and I realized it too late?
Behind me, I hear the slam of the front door. I spin around and see Keeley entering the living room, staring at me through the glass door. She’s decked out from head to toe in the pinstripe suit that hugs her body so well it’s impossible not to see that she’s made for sin.
I wrench open the patio door. “Keeley?” Thank God you’re here. “I called. I texted. Where have you been?”
“Doing my ‘job.’ I met your brother tonight.” She lifts her chin. “We should talk.”
 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE
 
 
My heart comes to a screeching, skidding halt. She met Griff?
Why do I have the sinking feeling that I’m even more fucked? Because my brother goes out for drinks about seven. Keeley is breezing in about ten thirty. A lot could happen in three and a half hours. I try not to imagine what.
My feet feel like blocks of lead as I enter the condo, shutting the lanai door behind me.
“You went outside?” She sounds surprised.
“Yeah.” I nod nervously as my heart decides to wage an all-out war with my chest. The battle is so loud I hear it in my ears. “You were right. It’s nice out there.”
I’m babbling. I wipe my sweaty palms on the soft cotton of my pajama pants. I want to touch her so badly, but her face is unreadable. I don’t know what to say.
She nods and kicks off her pumps. “Do you want to know about my evening with Griff?”
Yes and no. Mostly no. I wish like hell I had any idea what was rolling through her head. I stand there mutely, a boiling pot of emotion melting my brain. I blink. She looks beautiful. There’s really no way my brother didn’t see her, zero in on her, want to know everything about her before he saw every inch of her.
The thought is killing me.
“I’m not sure.”
She softens a little. “Sit.”
Keeley chooses the corner of the L-shaped sectional. I sit one cushion over, going through the motions of breathing so I don’t freak out.
This makes no fucking sense. Twenty days ago, I didn’t even know this woman. I would have passed her on the street and stared…before I shrugged and walked on. Now I’m seriously thinking of surrendering my future to her. Giving up the only sense of self I’ve ever known for her.
“Did you talk to him?” I finally ask into the protracted silence.
“Yes. He’s…like you. And not. He’s smart and ambitious and interesting. You’ve got that in common. But he’s more serious. More intense.”
Griff is. He always has been. I wonder if it’s because he has a chip on his shoulder about being the younger brother, if he always feels like he needs to dig deeper to keep up.
“What happened? What did you talk about?”
“I got your message with the name of that bar that Harlow passed on. I thought I’d go over there and see if I could figure him out just by observing. I was on my stool about two minutes when he came over to me, drink in hand and swagger in full swing.”
Knowing he studied her and sized her up as a potential nightly fuck makes me want to both curl into the fetal position and beat him senseless. Breathing is hard again. I’m wishing I had booze or a punching bag—something to bleed off my growing fury. Griff looked at her, damn it.
The worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.
“What did he say?”
“Not much. We made small talk, exchanged names and a little info. We joked about our favorite drinks, then made a pointless bet about whether the new waitress would drop a huge tray of drinks. He won, by the way. She wasn’t practiced enough to handle all that. We mentioned where we were from, where we’d gone to college, and the fact that we’re both single.”
Technically, Keeley is single. I know it in my head. The rest of me is shouting a big “fuck no.”
“That took three hours?”
She raises a brow at me. It’s a subtle warning that I don’t own her.
“We took our time. We ended up finding a booth and sharing appetizers. We talked about business. I gave him a cover story. He thinks I work retail but am thinking about going into real estate. That opened him up to talk about business. He spoke in veiled terms about the Stowe deal.”
As much as I hate the cozy picture her words paint, it doesn’t sound as intimate as I feared.
I let out a pent-up breath. “Okay. So that’s it?”
“No.” She folds her hands in her lap and looks at her entwined fingers.
Is she trying to collect her words? Or hide her guilt?
“And?” I demand, hearing an edgy note creep into my voice.
I can’t stand being on tenterhooks anymore. The not being able to draw in a deep breath, along with the sharp, perpetual tensing of my gut, is killing me. The pain bolts down my sternum.
“We talked about family. He mentioned you.” She taps her thumbs together and pauses again.
“Spit it out.”
“He hates you.”
I guessed that. The feeling has been unspoken for something just north of a thousand days. But Keeley’s soft words makes everything inside me crater.
Not knowing the truth for certain was easier.
Fuck, one deal tore up my family. This one is going to rip up my heart.
Goddamn it.
“Yeah.”
“And he loves you. He didn’t say that, but I know it.”
My heart nearly implodes. I love him, too.
I shut my eyes and feel tears sting like acid. I miss that stupid motherfucker so much.
“Maxon?” she prods at me.
I refuse to cry. It’s been an absolutely terrible day. Not the first. It won’t be the last. I clench my teeth together. I will not lose my composure. I am fucking going to hold it together so I can hear the rest of this.
“Yeah.” I drag in a shuddering breath. “So where did you leave things?”
“He asked me to dinner tomorrow night.”
Jesus. Motherfucking son of a bitch. My stomach tightens so much it’s one giant ball of ache.
“What did you say?”
She looks past me, out to the lanai, biting her lip. The tension is killing me.
Finally, she nods. “I, um…told him this week was hell on my schedule and I’d have to juggle my schedule to make it work. He gave me his number. I’m supposed to call him tomorrow afternoon.”