That’s not fair. Mia never cheated on me with Mark or anyone else who was attracted to her, only Mateo.
Only the fucking boss.
I look down at the phone, my fingers curled around the screen in a death grip. I’ll never be able to see the word “boss” and not think of him.
Even if it’s a crazy, paranoid thing to think, I can’t help the doubt that fills my mind. I can’t help looking at this message which could very well be from some wrinkly old dude who means no harm, and thinking, what if it’s Mateo?
The text isn’t informative, but my mind goes to the full sentences. Mateo texts in full sentences. He’s even bad at texting back promptly, so even if she really did text him earlier, it could just as easily be that motherfucker as some scattered academic. Those are also the kind of specific, brief lies you would tell to make someone sound real—give life to an illusion. Mateo’s done that before in a tight spot.
I can’t fucking trust anything right now. I look at this phone and see Mateo. I look at Carly and see a lie.
But I can’t call her bluff, because if she’s innocent, I don’t want to embarrass her in front of her boss, either.
I’m in a tight fucking spot and I don’t know what to do. I’m so uncomfortable I want to crawl out of my skin, so I toss the phone on her bed and cross the room.
Carly backs up against the wall as I advance on her. She keeps her gaze on me, but doesn’t speak. I don’t stop until I’m literally on top of her, our bodies brushing. My hand drifts to her jawline, sliding down until it settles around her neck. Then I close my fingers, squeezing until she gasps and grabs at my fingers. “Vince…”
“Tell me something, Carly. The bad man you were involved with before me, the one you said you got tangled up with…. What was his name? And before you answer, know that I’m going to look him up and verify that he not only exists, but has a tie to you. I’ll pay someone to look into it professionally, if I have to.”
“Please don’t do that,” she says, her throat convulsing beneath my fingers as she swallows. “I have a restraining order. He can’t know where I am or he’ll…”
“Kill you?” I guess. I would have the dumb fucking luck to find a second girl who can drive men out of their fucking minds. “So will I, if you’re fucking lying to me. If Mateo sent you, you better tell me right now.”
Tears well up in her big, blue eyes. She looks so disappointed that it physically hurts me. My grip automatically loosens on her neck, though I don’t move my hand completely.
Finally, she whispers, “Gavin. Gavin Halstead is his name. He travels between Chicago and New York. You’ll find addresses for him at both places. Now, please get your hands off me and get out of my apartment.”
I hold her gaze, hating the feeling in my gut. Hating the gleam of tears in her eyes. She doesn’t let them fall, but they’re welling up because of me. I hate it, and yet I can’t convince myself I’m wrong. I can’t convince myself she’s not tied to Mateo somehow. I can’t convince myself he’s not “Boss Man.”
I can’t convince myself I’m safe with her. There’s still so much I don’t know.
I drop my hand. I stare at her for a minute.
Then I do as she requested and get the fuck out of her apartment.
Chapter Fourteen
Vince
Carly looks like sin personified in a tight black dress. The V is cut clear down to her belly button. Her magnificent breasts beg for attention as she backs herself up against the wall, smiling that sultry smile, her long blonde hair falling in waves over her shoulders. I reach for her, wanting to touch her, but I can’t. An invisible wall stops me. I push against it, but it’s like a thick barrier or glass. I can see through it, I can watch everything happening, but I can’t reach it myself. They can’t hear me when I try to call out.
A firm hand pushes the strap over Carly’s shoulder, but it’s not mine. A dark head bends to lavish her breast with attention, to take her nipple in his mouth and tease it until she’s moaning, eyes closed with pleasure, but it’s not mine. Carly’s fingers move through his hair the same way they moved through mine… but it’s not me.
He straightens. Grabs her arms and pins them against the wall. His gaze rakes over her body, half covered, half bared for him. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
Carly’s breathless. More breathless than she’s ever been for me, and he doesn’t even have her naked. He’s barely touched her. She still seems to be so tormented with desire, she can hardly manage, “You, Mateo. I want you.”