Page 55 of Keep Him Like Secrets

“What?” I snapped, leaning into annoyance. It was easier. Uncomplicated. Morecomfortablethan actually opening up, letting anyone in.

I mean, even if I were capable of doing that—with anyone—I definitely couldn’t talk to Bastian aboutthis.

Because despite trying like hell to stop thinking about it—about him—I couldn’t get Soren out of my mind.

It had been almost two weeks since the littleincidentin the empty club. And while I shot off one or two-word answers to his occasional text updates, I tried not to engage when he clearly wanted me to. WhenIwanted to.

Because that want was dangerous.

It could undo the deal.

It could undo Renzo’s respect for me.

It couldundo me.

And that was the scariest of all.

Bastian watched me for a moment, his eyes thoughtful.

“Look, I know a thing or two about needing to keep all your shit to yourself,” Bass said. “You can’t exactly be in your feelings in prison. And, after a while of tamping all that shit down, it becomes the default. Even when you are finally free to talk to someone and let all that pent-up shit out, it’s hard.”

“And, what, I’m supposed to open up to you? I hardly know you.”

“Sometimes it’s easier that way. Look,” Bass said, exhaling hard, “I’m not gonna try to make you tell me. This is just me saying I’m here. And reminding you that creating a new problem,” he went on, waving the liquor bottle, “ain’t gonna solve the old one.”

With that, he set the bottle back down and walked off.

I stared at the bottle for a moment before pouring another drink.

I spent the next half an hour trying to get absorbed in the crowd, in their conversations, in something—anything—but the thoughts of Soren that kept invading my mind.

By the time I was moving into the elevator, deciding I was only going to bring the morale of the party down, there was just one thought swirling around in my head.

Soren’s address.

It was a terrible idea.

I didn’t technically even know if the offer was still standing. If he would be home.If he would be alone.

My stomach twisted at that last thought.

Even if, objectively, I had no right to feel jealous if he took another woman to his bed when I’d avoided ending up there myself.

Hell, I didn’t even think I was capable of jealousy when it came to a man. None had ever meant enough to care what they did and with whom.

“Ugh,” I growled, making the woman next to me on the subway inch away, avoiding eye contact.

Great.

I was one of the subway crazies.

That was what Soren did to me.

So why the ever-loving hell was I on my way to Manhattan to see him?

“Men ruin everything,” I told the woman, who glanced over with knowing eyes.

She gave me a nod. “Preach.”

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