“If you hate New York so much and you don’t like talking about your past or what you lost six years ago, why do you have so many mementos hanging on your walls?”
“Aubrey…”
“Okay, forget that question. And the Latin quote across your heart? What does it mean?”
“Lie about one thing, lie about it all.” I kissed her lips before she could ask me anything else. I was starting to wonder why she hadn’t wanted to be a damn journalist instead of a ballerina.
“It’s your turn,” she said softly. “You can ask me questions now.”
“I’d rather f**k you again.” I lifted her with me as I stood up and helped her out of the bath tub.
We both dried off and went into my bedroom. Just as I was pulling her against me, my doorbell rang.
I sighed. “Dinner’s early.” I slipped into a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt and headed to the door with my credit card.
The second I opened it, I was confronted with the sight of the last person on earth I wanted to see. Ava.
“Don’t you dare f**king slam it on me this time,” she hissed. “We need to talk.”
“We don’t need to talk about shit.” I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not wanted here?’
“As many times as it’ll take you to actually believe it, which you don’t.” She scoffed. “Ask me why I came to Durham to see you, Mr. Hamilton. Appease me and I’ll finally go the hell away.”
“You’re going the hell away regardless,” I said flatly. “I really don’t give a f**k why you came here.”
“Not even if it’s to sign the divorce papers?”
“You could’ve sent that shit in the mail.” I gritted my teeth. “And since I’m sure you’re running out of loopholes for contesting it, I’m willing to wait until all your options run out. I’m sure your lawyers will drop you as soon as they find out what type of client you are.”
“All I’m asking for is ten thousand a month.”
“Go ask the man who was f**king you in our bedroom while I was at work.” I glared at her, livid. “Or better yet, ask the judge you only “fucked for a favor,” or hey, if you’re up to it, f**k my former best friend. Sleeping with him always seemed to make you feel better, right?”
“You weren’t Mr. Perfect either.”
“I never f**king cheated on you, and I never lied to you.”
Silence.
“Five thousand a month,” she said.
“Go f**k yourself, Ava.”
“You know I never give up,” she said, her eyes widened as I stepped back inside my apartment. “I always get what I want.”
“So do I.” I slammed the door in her face, feeling my heart palpitating, feeling the onset of ugly memories all over again.
Rain. New York. Heartbreak.
Complete and utter heartbreak.
Seeing Ava in person again—hearing her manipulative voice and feeling those familiar pangs in my chest, immediately made me realize that I couldn’t make the same mistake again.
Aubrey was already asking questions, trying to dig her way into my life as much as she could—thinking that if she stayed around long enough that we would work out together. But I knew that would never happen, not after seeing Ava and knowing just how far she would go to ruin me all over again.
I was officially done with this monogamous game we’d been playing for the past couple weeks. It was quite fun—different, but since Aubrey could never be mine and I could never be hers, it was quite f**king pointless, too.
I headed back into my bedroom and saw Aubrey smiling as she settled into the bed.