The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

“You don’t have to yell at me,” she spits angrily as she stands and straightens her skirt. “Or call me names.”

A sigh releases from my lungs as I realize what a colossal dick I am. “I made a mistake once and I vowed never to do it again.”

She keeps her eyes glued to mine, her expression still hurt, stirring my ever present guilt. “I should go.” Her back is to me when she stops at my office door and turns her head to look at me. “For the record, I don’t want a kid either. I’m on the pill.”

As I watch the door close, I realize I’m once again losing myself to a woman. That I’ve once again put myself in a position to be hurt.

Beneath all the strength I try to exude, I’m weak and susceptible to a woman with Peyton’s charms. She’s able to see through all of my bullshit and that makes her as dangerous as it does desirable.

Thankfully, I think my behavior’s ensured that she’s done with me, which I deserve as punishment for my stupidity.

“When will my place be finished?” Peyton asks as soon as I enter the loft. Her words and her posture convey chilling distance.

“Soon,” I answer, heading straight to the bar.

I hear her approach me from behind but keep my back to her. “I’ve never been so humiliated,” she says softly.

Knowing I owe her an explanation, I spin around to face her. Only when I see the rejection in her gaze, I can’t find words. The silence around us as I consider how to make things right thickens until she begins tapping her foot. The action combined with her pouting lips amuses me and I release a quiet laugh.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Peyton? I told you I’d hurt you. I’m a bad guy with a broken heart that doesn’t know who he is.”

“No, you’re a good guy with a huge heart that’s been through some bad times. Knowing the difference comes from how much control you give your past.”

“You’re wrong,” I shake my head, refusing to believe there’s an ounce of worth left in me. “I don’t know what to say.”

She shoves her pointer finger into my chest, with her expression tight. “You start with an apology, or are you too proud for that?”

“No,” I huff and then smile. “I’m just not good at it.”

I watch her mouth trying to smile as she fights to stay mad. “It’s real easy. You open your mouth and say two measly words . . . that’s it . . . Man up . . . Have some balls and . . .”

I cover her mouth when I see she’s going to keep rattling on until I say what she wants to hear. “I’m sorry.”

My hand remains for a second but when I feel her smile against it, I let go.

“See . . . Was that so hard?” Her eyes dance with delight as she smiles brightly.

She has no idea how hard it was. With a pathetic shrug, I turn back to the bar. I pour us both a drink. When I hand her the glass, she shakes her head.

“Had enough?”

“Yeah, I tend to do stupid things when I drink.” She narrows her eyes in a playful manner.

“Like?” I ask, joking with her as I return her glass to the bar.

“Like trying to seduce a hot guy, only to find out I’m the only piece of ass on the planet he won’t sleep with.”

Instinctually, I want to be angry and defend myself by telling her how wrong she is about me. But what a joke! She doesn’t know my reasons, but she isn’t wrong. She doesn’t understand that to me—she’s more than just a piece of ass. That because I feel things for her, I couldn’t follow through with a reckless fuck session.

I don’t want a first time with her that ends in a mistake. I want a first time with her that will obliterate our other first times. Fuck! This chick is changing me and I’m not sure yet how I feel about that.

I can’t be mad and I won’t follow her lead and make a joke about what happened. There’s nothing funny about how I made her feel. Her eyes study me, looking for some clue to explain my behavior. She won’t find one. The mask is flawless, revealing only what I allow it to. She’s seen glimpses when I let my guard down, but not now, not afte

r what happened in my office. From now on, she’ll only see what I let her.

The shame still marring her features upsets me. It’s me who should feel humiliated. She deserves to know what a head case I am and that she didn’t do anything wrong. I take her hand and lead her to the couch. We settle in next to each other with our feet on the coffee table.

“I really am sorry, Peyton. I panicked when I realized I wasn’t wearing a little heart-saver.”