Three Hard Lessons (Blindfold Club 2)

I refused to go over to Evie and Logan’s place, but the reminders of Dominic were everywhere. The first time I got into my car, I couldn’t enjoy the feeling of the steering wheel in my hands. All I could do was think about the man who had sat in the passenger seat last time I’d driven.

Thursday morning I woke from my restless sleep in my big, empty bed.

That night, I sat down and took a hard look at my finances. If I could make around ten grand during my weekend managing, which should be easy, I’d have enough breathing room to last to the end of my lease.

Or enough for a ticket back to Tokyo. I pushed the thought away.

On Friday I woke at forty-thirty in the morning, my internal alarm clock ringing.

His response was fast, as if he’d been waiting for me. I filled my lungs with air, then typed out the response I knew he’d interpret as consent.

Thirty seconds later, my phone rang.

“Hey,” I said, my throat tight.

There was a sigh on the other end, one that sounded like relief. “Hey. How are you?”

I closed my eyes and my hand tightened on the phone. It’d been eleven and a half days since I’d last heard that rough voice. There were a million different responses I could have given him, but went with the safest. “I’m tired. It’s really early here.”

“I know. You didn’t have to get up. I mean, when you’re ready to talk, I’m ready. Whenever.”

“Okay,” I said. “Talk.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t say I’m sorry enough that I didn’t tell you. I lose my shit around you.”

“The Payton effect?” I groaned. “Seriously, this is your excuse? Your idiot decision-making is my fault?

“Yeah, the Payton effect. You don’t know what you do to me. You’re all I think about. When I’m with you, I don’t know, it’s like everything else doesn’t matter. It’s only you. I can’t focus. And when you’re not here? I can’t fucking breathe.” His voice dropped low and hesitant. “I wanted you to feel the same way about me, and I think that’s part of why I put off making a decision, maybe subconsciously.”

“What?”

“You’re smart, and gorgeous, and confident . . . in Chicago? Some better guy is going to come along and steal you away. I wanted you in Japan so I didn’t have any competition. I’m fucking weak.” His voice was heavy with guilt.

Holy shit. “Are you insane? I mean, fucking insane? Who’s going to compete with you?” There was silence on the other end of the line. “That’s right. Nobody. Nobody who pushes me, and ignores my rules like a giant pain in the ass . . . and I mean all of my rules, including the one about love.”

There was a sharp noise of surprise.

“But you fucked up. Believe me when I tell you I don’t do lies. Test that rule again, and we’re done. As in, forever. And that,” I began to shake uncontrollably, “that would destroy me.”

“Me too. I won’t lie to you again, I promise. Never again.”

“Good.” There was a tightness in my chest I hadn’t noticed until now, as it began to ease.

“Payton,” His voice was strong. “I love you. Real.” He exhaled into the phone. “Always real.”

I wouldn’t say those three words for the first time through the phone when he was on the other side of the world, so I gave him three different ones. “It better be.” They were meant to be confident, but came from me shaky. Desperate.

I turned onto my side on the bed, and hearing his voice in my darkened bedroom, I could pretend he was beside me. Maybe I’d finally be able to find sleep when we hung up.

And I’d need sleep.

Tonight I was going to make enough money to get my ass back to Tokyo, determined to get rid of all the unspoken things between us once and for all.

I sat in my front seat, put on a final coat of mascara, and ran through the schedule once more in my head. I’d parked out front of the club at nine – an hour before the girls would arrive. When I stepped out and locked the car, I tugged at my coat. Beneath,

I wore my black pants, a royal blue top with a fitted black tux jacket over it, and high heels. My sexed-up version of professional.

Julius was waiting for me at the front door, a huge smile on his face.