I was silent. In the years since college, Nadira had never mentioned Grayson in any of our correspondence.
“So, yes.” She continued. “Yes, I told him you would be there. I did it in hopes that you would finally get over yourself and maybe get some much-deserved closure. As much as you like to lie to yourself, you are not over him. If you ask me, you never will be.”
“I didn’t ask you.” Tears were falling down my face. “I didn’t ask you anything because you’re beyond wrong on this.”
“Am I?” She scoffed. “Why do you think all of your relationships end in failure before they can even begin?”
“Because I have an affinity for douchebags.”
“Or you can’t help but compare everyone to the man you’re still in love with,” she said. “Why do you think your latest art collection is doing better than anything you’ve ever done?”
“Because it’s my best work.”
“You don’t think the fact that it’s inspired by your college years has anything to do with it?”
“Nothing at all.” I gritted my teeth. I wasn’t going to let her change the subject. “Nadira, I can’t believe—”
“Especially the picture of that couple kissing in the middle of a football field,” she said, not stopping. “I really like that one.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“That may not, but Rosy-gan Cafes & Galleries does.”
“Excuse me?”
“Who the hell do you think you’re fooling, Charlotte?” She sounded exasperated. “You couldn’t bring yourself to name your business under your own name because you knew he would find you.”
“That’s not true.” It was more than true.
“And if you think for one minute that I never figured out that the name ‘Rosy-gan’ is a goddamn anagram for Grayson, you’re in even more denial than I thought.”
I hung up in her face and tossed my phone across the room.
CHARLOTTE: NOW
Present Day
New York City
“I’M COMING, I’M COMING!” I stumbled down the steps the following morning, thanking the universe that my weekly wine delivery was early. I made sure my bathrobe was tied tightly and opened the door, expecting to see a delivery man, but it was Grayson. A beautiful ‘I look perfect even in sweatpants and a white T-shirt’ Grayson.
I tried to slam the door in his face, but he wedged his foot between the doorframe.
“You didn’t show up for our meeting on Tuesday,” he said.
“I’m aware.”
“Did you forget?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Nope.” I shrugged. “I decided you weren’t worth my time.”
He glared at me, saying nothing. He moved his foot from the doorframe, but instead of leaving he pushed his way inside, backing me into my hallway.
“I waited for you for six hours,” he said, his voice terse. “Six. Hours.”
“Did you get a chance to drink any of the coffee?”
“Stop fucking with me, Charlotte.” He pinned me against the wall with his hips. “We had an agreement.”
“We once agreed we wouldn’t hurt each other and you broke that promise pretty easily, so I guess we’re even now.”
“Six hours.”
“I’m not sorry,” I said, ignoring the frantic racing of my heart. “But if you give me another six months or so, I can consider meeting with you to take random trips down memory lane. You’ll have to fill in a lot of the blanks for me, though.”
“You don’t remember?” His lips brushed against mine and every nerve in my body came to life.
“I only remember the ending.”
“Nothing about what we had before that?” He hissed.
“No. Nothing we had was that memorable. We were young.”
We stared at each other, not saying a word. Within seconds his mouth was on mine, and my arms were around his neck.
He tore open my robe exposing my naked body and lifted me up by my thighs, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist. I moaned as I fought for control of the kiss, as he fought back with rough and demanding bites of my bottom lip.
His cock hardened against me, and I reached down to free it from his sweatpants. He briefly tore his mouth away from mine and kissed my neck, biting my skin as I massaged him with my hand.
Returning to kissing me recklessly, he let me down onto the floor and tore open a condom before putting it on. He glared at me, looking hurt and angry all at once.
“Put your legs around my waist,” he commanded, lifting me up again. I obliged and he thrust his cock inside of me with one stroke—stretching and filling me deep.
Moaning, I closed my eyes and tried to adjust to his length, he didn’t give me the chance. He pulled back and pounded into me again and again.
“You don’t remember this?” he said, fucking me harder.
His eyes never left mine, mine never left his.
He continued owning my body like no other man could, bringing me to back to back orgasms—making me accept that he would always be the best sex I’d ever had.