Page 112 of Book Boyfriends
With my appointment with the witchcraft consultant later today, Davis is dropping me home so I can change. The clothes I’m wearing are clean, thanks to his extreme thoughtfulness, but I prefer not to walk around in last night’s outfit.
Also, I want to spend time with Wentworth. The guilt about my bad puppy parenting this week is eating away at me. I never spend this much time away from him. My remorse waned a bit thanks to the picture Hope sent of Rem spooning my good boy in bed this morning.
As much as I know, it’s time for me to move out, I’ll miss things like that. It’s nice having an entire team to help me parent Wentworth. But as Rem says, he’ll still be there. It might just be be a drive versus a short walk.
“Not to bethatguy…” Davis blows out a breath. “But would you and Wentworth want company at the park?”
“Don’t you need some alone time to recharge?” I shift in the passenger seat to face him.
“I’m good.” A crease furrows his brow. “Unlessyouneed space. Am I being too much? Like… is this too clingy?”
“No!” I reach over and take his hand, laughter laces my protest. “Not at all. I like spending time with you. I just don’t want you to think that you’re expected to be with me all the time or anything like that. If you need your time, that’s fine.”
“I don’t expect that or, rather, I don’t think you expect that.” He squeezes my hand. “I also enjoy spending time with you. Maybe I’m a little greedy because I got so much of you in the last nineteen hours that I’m not ready to let go. Plus, this week won’t offer any opportunity to see you.”
Over breakfast, Davis shared that he’ll attend a tech conference and some meetings in the Bay Area on Tuesday, not returning until late Saturday. The conference is only until Thursday, but the meetings he’d canceled to fly home after his grandfather’s accident were rescheduled for Friday and Saturday morning. His assistant finalized the details yesterday. This may be our last chance to hang out until then. While he worries that asking to hang with me and my dog may make him appear clingy, the icky sensation sloshing inside me comes from the fact that I may not see him for seven days, teasing that maybe I’m the clingy one.
Not to mention, Davis says this is what he wants. If he needed time alone, he’d ask for it. We made each other that promise last night, and as I already know, promises are important to him.
“Let’s get Wentworth.” I grin.
“Awesomesauce.” He beams, reaching for the door handle.
“Did you just say awesomesauce?” I chortle, opening my door.
“The woman who cried out good gravy after I went down on her in the shower this morning has no room to judge my use of awesomesauce,” he teases.
Heat blooms in my cheeks. Okay, so maybe my pampering of him wasn’tthataltruistic. In my vagina’s defense, he did say he’d take care of her… and take care of her he did.
Laughing, we walk hand-in-hand toward the back gate. We both snicker like teenagers as our gazes jump from the gate to one another. It shall be a very long time before I look at this gate with anything but heated memories.
“Georgia.”
We spin at the sound of James’s smooth English accent. Standing at the start of the walkway leading to the gate, his mouth is drawn into a firm line, and his bloodshot eyes are locked on me.
“I told you to stay away from her,” Davis snarls. His arm loops around my middle and pulls me close to him in a protective, possessive gesture that I like far too much.
Bad feminist.
“What are you doing here, James?” Spine straight, I glare at him, surprised to see a plea swimming in his green pupils.
“I came to apologize,” he says, his voice thick. “I am ashamed of my behavior. How I treated you.”
“How you manipulated her, you mean?” Davis snipes. He takes a step forward, but I halt his movement with a hand on his arm.
“Yes. I did that. Georgia, I used your initial attraction to me and the uncertainty of this entire situation to manipulate you. You deserved better than a cad using you to get what he wants.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Is this more of your manipulation? Are you hopeful that I’ll forgive you and you can try to,what… Worm your way back in and figure out some way to use me or?—”
“No.” His protest is quick. “It is understandable that you would doubt me. I toyed with your emotions from the beginning. Even my last visit here had been a game. I had overheard Owen tell Lars about him.” He gestures at Davis.
“That’s why you came to my apartment Thursday morning?” I scoff. “Why tell me this?”
“To be honest about who I am. About the type of man that I am…” Teeth gritted, he shakes his head. “Though, my actions are not the trademark of a man. At least, not a good one.”
“That’s for sure,” Davis mutters.
“What I did was inexcusable. I’m not here for forgiveness.”
