Only You (Sweet Torment 2)

“I’m glad you changed your mind,” he said with all the confidence he’d had earlier today.

“Don’t flatter yourself. This was the closest bar within walking distance.”

“So you don’t want a sandwich then?” He took my empty shot glass, sniffed it, then set it down. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the bartender. The old man set a fresh glass down for Leo and filled it. “And can we get a water for the lady?”

“I’ve only had two.” Nowhere near enough to drown what was aching in my gut. “And you’re not in charge of me.”

He flipped his ball cap around so the bill was in the back. The gesture itself was hot. Him in a backwards hat, making that dark stubble, tan skin, and those bright eyes more noticeable. And even more devastating.

He drank his shot and smiled. “I wasn’t telling you to stop, but hydrating while drinking is never a bad thing.”

He motioned for another shot and while the bartender poured it, he gripped the back of my barstool and swiveled it to face him.

That blue gaze locked on me and I had a hard time thinking. For the last hour I’d been on the brink of crying and screaming, and neither had come out. I just sat there. A bubbling pool of emotion with no release. Shock was weighing heavily and I couldn’t even begin to contemplate how to move forward. So I decided to get drunk and deal with it tomorrow.

“Have you eaten?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice. A left turn from the cocky side of him I’d seen earlier today.

Why did he care? But he was acting all charming and gentlemanly and I had no defense against it. Truth was, I had forgotten about my protein shake earlier, so no, I hadn’t technically eaten today.

“I had a couple candies,” I admitted.

“Chocolate and tequila.” He threw back his second shot. “You’re going to need more than that.” He got the bartender’s attention and ordered some fries and a sandwich for me.

“Are you always this friendly to random strangers?” I asked. “Ordering food for me and whatnot?”

“We’re not strangers.” He winked. “We kissed at your desk today. Right before you told me to leave.”

“Hey, at least I was polite about it.” I smiled.

“That you were. Like I said, you’re sexy when you’re irritated.”

This man was obviously used to women falling at his feet, as evidenced by the numerous interested stares being flashed his way. He was so relaxed and laid back that he could go around saying things like that, calling women sexy, knowing it melted panties. And I knew it too. Hell, I had the proof.

Just when I thought I was loosening up, I remembered why I was here in the first place. Today my job, and my world, had ended. Something in my chest felt hollow and hurting at the same time.

Leo must have noticed my change in attitude because he asked, “You want to talk about it?”

My shoulders sank a little more and I shook my head. “Not really.”

Those stupid tears I’d been fighting all day threatened to line my lashes. I looked at him and palmed my forehead. “Have you ever worked

so hard for something, to be someone, and you lose it? Because of lies? And there’s no one there to defend you . . . or believe you . . .”

And suddenly, I was fifteen again, staring up at my mom, praying she’d pick me, but she didn’t. And I was all alone.

Emotions were flooding and they ached. As though a hole had been carved out of my chest, because everything I had fought for over the years—moving out, graduating high school early, going to college, getting into politics—all of it didn’t matter. I was still that same girl from a trailer in Indiana.

My clothes felt cheap. I felt cheap. Like the facade I had been presenting the past decade was cracking.

My scalp burned from the tight updo. My blouse itched and the waist of my skirt felt too restrictive.

I wanted today to be over.

At least for one night, I wanted to forget all about the scandal and just breathe.

“I don’t see how anyone couldn’t believe you,” Leo said.

“What makes you say that? You don’t even know me.”