“Forget the rehab. Find a guy who’s smart enough to know what he has from the get-go.”
I glanced at him, watching his throat work as he chugged the entire bottle of water. “You telling me you never screwed up with a girl and wanted a second chance?”
“Doesn’t count. You’re a Rossi. There’s no excuse for him screwing up besides being stupid,” he said.
“Will you ask her?”
“Fine.” He headed toward the kitchen, adding, “Only because I hope she digs up something that convinces you he’s bad news.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t think you’re getting the favor for a simple thanks.” He tossed his towel over his shoulder and washed his hands. The kitchen was the most finished part of the apartment, with brand-new stainless-steel appliances, chef’s cooktop, double wall ovens and a massive workstation island with sink. “I’ve got a basket of laundry that needs washing.”
I sat up. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. Better hurry.” He grinned. “I’m out of Rossi’s T-shirts and my shift starts in two hours.”
* * *
I’D JUST CLOSED the louvered doors that concealed the washer and dryer when I heard my smartphone ringing. I ran to my bedroom to grab it, but missed the call. Didn’t matter, though, because it immediately started ringing again.
It was Jax.
Taking a deep breath, I touched Answer on the screen and said, “Hey.”
“You were supposed to call,” he accused.
“So were you,” I retorted. “Took you two years to get around to it.”
“Jesus.” He exhaled harshly. “Why did you leave?”
“It was time. Your dad invited us to dinner.”
“We’re not going.”
I shrugged. “I’ll go without you.”
“The hell you will! Damn it, Gia. You’re swimming with sharks and acting like you’re on vacation.”
“I’m definitely seeing things I’ve never seen before. Like those pictures you’ve got framed in your pad. How long have you been following me? Creepy, by the way.”
He cursed. “You’re fucking a Rutledge. Surveillance and invasion of privacy come with the territory.”
“I wasn’t fucking you at the time that picture in your office was taken.”
“You were in my office? What the hell, Gia?”
My mouth curved grimly at his inadvertent admission that there were more photos I hadn’t found. “I’m going to be in every aspect of your life—get used to it.”
Jax was silent for a long minute, then quietly asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m processing the fact that you’re in love with me, Jax.” I heard his breath catch and felt a surge of pleasured triumph. “Still, you bailed on me. And now you’re sabotaging my work and your own chances with me.”
“Gia—”
“I’m on to you, Jackson Rutledge.” My voice was low and hard, unwavering. “I’m going to figure you out.”
“I’m an open book,” he retorted.
“You’re a head trip.” I ignored the waiting suitcase on my bed and sat at my desk instead. I woke my computer with a shake of the mouse. “And your mystery-man days are numbered.”
I hung up, shut off the ringer and started my research.
* * * * *