Page 16 of Penthouse Prince
“I see,” is all she says.
Corrigan keeps her eyes on mine, and I’m curious what she sees when she looks at me like that. A fuckup? A son trying to stop being so selfish and make amends? Maybe that second one is just wishful thinking.
There’s only silence again. Feeling awkward, I drain the last of my espresso.
Soon, I can’t take it anymore. “Well? Say something.”
“I was more curious about why I’m here, Lexington. We’re not exactly friends.”
“We used to be,” I say in a low voice. The words just pop out, but the second they do, I wish I could take them back, because her features harden and her eyes narrow on mine.
“We used to be a lot more than that.”
A memory flashes across my mind’s eye, playing as vividly as a movie.
Corrigan and me on a warm summer night, sitting on the porch swing behind my house, listening to the cicadas shrill out their love songs, and watching the hunting bats swoop against the bright stars. Holding hands, my other arm around her waist, her head resting on my shoulder. She turned her lovely face up to mine, her eyes shining in anticipation. I bent to her, and for the first time, I pressed my mouth against those full, soft lips. The perfect kiss. And we shared so many firsts after that.
“Did you hear me?” she says, crashing me back to reality. “Tell me what I’m doing here, Lexington. What’s this favor Dak was talking about?”
Well, fine then.
Part of me was desperately hoping to catch up, to find out where we stand with each other and where the last ten years have taken her. But if she wants to keep it all business, I guess I have no choice but to manage that. It’s probably for the best, anyway.
I swallow and rub a hand over the stubble on my jaw. “Well, you’re here because Grier needs a nanny, and when I talked to Dak, he suggested you.”
“You . . . want me to be your nanny,” Corrigan says slowly. “To work for you. In your home. Taking care of your child?”
Shit. I can tell she’s not pleased. Actually, that’s an understatement. If she could, Corrigan would be shooting laser beams out of her eyes right now. She looks that ticked off.
“It wouldn’t be full time or anything,” I say quickly, backpedaling. “I just need someone to look after her while I’m working. And sometimes when I take Mom to appointments.”
She blinks at me as if I’ve grown another head. “How on earth could I possibly do that?”
I’m starting to get irritated despite myself. This hostile reaction isn’t what I expected. Dak made it seem like the obvious solution. But the only thing obvious is that I’m an idiot.
“What do you mean? It works just like any other job. I’d give you money, and you’d—”
“Seriously, Lexington? Do I have to spell it out for you? We have a history, and not a good one,” she says, glaring at me.
Dammit, I’m going about this all wrong. I take a deep breath to compose myself.
“You’re right. We do, and I owe you an apology. Can we start over, please?”
With a slow exhale, Corrigan averts her gaze. “I don’t know. Can we?”
Swallowing my pride, I say the words I should have said a long time ago. “I shouldn’t have dumped you the way I did. I was young and stupid.”
She watches me closely with narrowed eyes, then asks in an acid tone, “That’s your excuse? That’s all you’ve got to say about it?” She stands and snatches up her purse. “Good-bye, Lexington.”
I grab her hand. “Wait!”
“Why should I?” she mutters, but doesn’t pull out of my grasp.
“Because I’ll tell you the truth.”
She stares at me for a long moment, then finally sits back down, still glaring at me.
I let go of her hand and swallow past my suddenly pounding heart. “I . . . I was scared.”
Now she looks confused, as well as angry. “Of what?”
“Of falling in love. Messing up. Breaking your heart . . . or my own. Of betraying your brother’s trust.” The feel of her hand lingers on my skin. “I was about to leave for college, and I thought trying to do a long-distance relationship for four years would be impossible. And even if we somehow made it work, it’d be over anyway as soon as Dak found out.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me all this back then?” Her voice is fragile, and I hate myself for causing it. “I thought we were happy. I would have done anything for you, and then you threw me away out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t know any of this stuff at the time—I was operating off pure instinct. It took me years to figure it out.” I force a laugh. “Like I said, I was young and stupid.”
