More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

ditch all your responsibilities and chase your next piece of ass.”

“Let’s get one thing straight right now,” I growl. “I left because I thought you’d elected to help Maxon betray me with the estate for that obscure prince. Our breakup had nothing to do with another woman.”

She rolls her eyes. “So you just happened to decide to move Tiffanii in with you the day after our breakup because she was merely a good friend? And you never had sex with her?”

It’s a trap question. I’m damned if I tell the truth and damned if I don’t. “You really want to do this now?”

“No.” Britta closes up. “I don’t want to do this at all. What you did with your brother’s ex doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

Liar. I love Britta, and it’s hurting me to know she’s been with at least one other guy. I was supposed to be her first, her only.

I have to live with the regret of fucking that up, too.

“Tiffanii meant nothing to me.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize they’re so lame they’re counterproductive.

“At the time, she seemed to mean more to you than me, so—”

“No.” I spin her chair to face me and brace my hands on the arms, caging her in her seat. “Never. She told me a lot of lies, and I was in a bad place then, so I was stupid enough to believe them.”

“And then she just happened to fall into your bed, onto your penis, with a camera nearby. That’s one set of pictures I would have liked better if they’d been blurry. But gee, thanks for sending them over and proving once and for all what an asshole you are.”

I hear the words she’s speaking, but I can’t process them. “Pictures?”

She huffs and stands, pushing me a safe distance away. “Seriously? Stop. I’m talking about the shots of the two of you in bed that you sent your brother via email shortly after we split up. You knew I’d see that message first.” With a shake of her head, she really looks at me. “If you wanted to make sure I was going to fuck off, you waking up and making love to me, then packing to leave me while I was in the shower more than did it. I stood there dripping and naked in front of you while you called me a backstabbing bitch and walked out. I didn’t need pictures of you and Tiffanii in coital bliss or whatever to prove I meant nothing to you.”

I still have no idea what she’s talking about.

“I didn’t take naked pictures with Tiffanii.” If I was going to take sexy snapshots with someone, it sure as hell wouldn’t be her.

“I saw them. They came from your email address. How do you—” Britta stops herself and shakes her head. “You know what? Never mind. Old news. Water under the bridge. A waste of my time. Like you.”

When she tries to walk away, I grab her wrist. I didn’t want to do the Tiffanii thing first, but clearly Britta needs me to. “Here’s what went down: That morning, while you were in the shower, I found out about Maxon’s deal. Since you were his assistant, I assumed you were involved, too. I should have asked. I should have talked to you. But I was furious and not thinking straight, so I didn’t demand answers. I just packed, I said a lot of things I wish I could take back, and I left. Tiffanii hunted me down a few hours later to tell me that Maxon had cheated on her and—”

“Try the other way around.” Britta scoffs.

“I know.” That doesn’t surprise me—now.

She tilts her head, suspicion all over her face. “Of course you do. She was cheating with you.”

“What? No. Fuck no! Listen. To me, she was just my brother’s pain-in-the-ass girlfriend. The day I moved out, she came crying to me that she was pregnant, and when she told Maxon, he threw her out and changed the locks. She needed a place to stay until she got back on her feet. I found a crash-by-the-week motel with two bedrooms. She said she’d help with rent until we could each find a place of our own. I spent the first three days pushing down my anger at everything that had gone wrong and establishing my own business while figuring out how to go on without you. I spent the next three days blindingly drunk. I have no idea what happened.” That whole chunk of time is simply gone.

“Drunk? More likely in a sex haze.” She pinches her lips, looks away. “She must have been damn good.”

I’m happy to see firsthand the proof that Britta is no more over me than I’ve moved on from her. But I can’t let her whacked-out assumptions persist. Time to set the record straight. I hope Britta believes me someday.

For now, I suspect she’ll find the truth hard to swallow.

I grab her by the shoulders and drag her closer until I see her eyes widen and her soft lips part with a little gasp. Jesus, I want to kiss her so badly, back her onto her desk, lift her skirt, and make her mine again.

I can’t, which makes me growl and grit my teeth. “I didn’t consciously sleep with that woman for another two months. I only did it because I was so angry.” At everything and everyone. At life. “The minute I did, I knew it was a fucking mistake. It never happened again.”

“You must think I’m stupid. Maxon told me about the Bora Bora thing.”

“I didn’t plan to take Tiffanii on a romantic vacation. We both needed some time away. As a flight attendant, she could get us on a plane for free. I knew the manager of a small resort willing to rent us a villa for cheap after someone cancelled last minute. So Tiff and I decided to get some R and R as platonic friends. I had no reason to bail until I discovered her fucking some random guy on my sofa the afternoon before our departure. Then I grilled her until she admitted she’d never actually been pregnant. She’d only scammed me to get back at Maxon.”

Britta doesn’t say anything for a long time, just searches my face. She’s not sure whether to believe me. I see the pain in her expression, and I know I put it there. I want to kick myself again.

My fingers bite harder into her. “I swear it’s true.”

“Griff,” my brother warns from across the office.

A glance around the room tells me he’s staring. So is Rob.

I harassed her in the office. I also made a scene. Fuck.

“Let me go,” she demands softly.

“I’m sorry.” Slowly, I peel my fingers off of her. “But I’m telling you, I never touched Tiffanii when you and I were together. And I never had a single romantic feeling for her. I made one terrible mistake with her. I’ve regretted it since.”

She looks skeptical. “Then how do you explain the pictures of you two in bed I received six days after our breakup? On your birthday, by the way.”

“After that hellacious three-day bender, I woke up naked in my bed with an epic hangover and no recollection of life for seventy-two hours. She had free run of the motel room, so she had access to my camera, my computer… I didn’t send you any pictures.” I try to stare that truth into her. “I would never have done that to my brother or to you. She must have taken your letter about Jamie, too. I swear to God if I had received it I would have come back.”

Britta drags in a shaky breath and crosses her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t matter now. Tiffanii might have been the first woman after me.” She scoffs. “Or not. But she was hardly the last. The truth is, I don’t need you in my life. Neither does Jamie. Leave us alone.”

“I won’t,” I vow softly and force myself to take a giant step back. “But I’ll give you some space for now.”

She needs to think about everything I’ve laid bare. I know from experience that being up in Britta’s face when she’s upset will only make her shut down.

I look at the clock on the wall. “We only have a few minutes before the Stowe call. Do you need anything? Did you eat?”

She’s always been notoriously bad about forgetting breakfast.

“I’m fine.” Britta tries to brush past me and head for the conference room.

I step in front of her. “Did you eat?”

“I had an errand to run. I’ll get some breakfast after the call.”

“No.” I march into Maxon’s office and rifle through my briefcase, fishing o

ut a spare protein bar, then barrel toward her again. “Eat now.”

Since this topic isn’t open to debate, I head to the little coffee bar situated at the back of the room and make her a cup of tea. Black and weak with a hint of sugar, the way she’s always liked it. When I hand it to her, she blinks at me.

“You remembered?”

“I’ll never forget.”

“Don’t do this. It’s over, Griff,” she whispers, then gives me a wide berth as she heads to the conference room.

I follow her, muttering “like hell” under my breath.