Page 16 of Mr. Wrong
“What did you say his name was again?”
“I didn’t.” I focus on buttoning my jeans and zipping them up without snagging something important. When I look up, Lex is watching me, my boring beige bra hanging from its strap off his hooked finger. “He’s just some weird Hollywood-type. You know how they are,” I say, even though I have no idea what I’m talking about. I’ve been in LA for three days. I know less than nothing about this city or how it works.
“If you tell me his name, I might be able to make some calls—smooth things out.” He says it like he doesn’twantto say it. Like by saying it, he’s telling me too much about who he really is.
“No.” I shake my head. “I won’t ask you to do that,” I say, stalling out at the thought of taking my shirt off in front of him.
Seriously, Ellenore? This is the guy who had you bent over the bathroom sink a few hours ago. The same guy who just tongue-fucked you and offered to make you eggs. Get over yourself.
I hold my breath anyway as I pull my borrowed shirt over my head. “Thank you,” I murmur, trading it for the bra in his hand. Once my bra is on, I look up to find him shaking the wrinkles out of my T-shirt. For some weird reason, that slows me down. Calms me.
Before I know what I’m doing, I close the distance between us. “I’m sorry I’m being such a jerk.” I take the T-shirt from him and set it aside. “You were nice enough to wash my clothes and make—”
“Make you come?” The corner of his mouth jerks upward in a smirk when I blush.
“I was going to say make mecoffee, but yeah—that too,” I tell him, swaying closer, hoping he’ll take the hint and kiss me. “I wish I had time to return the favor.”
“It’s okay,” he says, reaching up to push my hair away from my face. “We’ll raincheck it.”
I roll my bottom lip between my teeth and nod because I don’t know what it means. If it’s just an expression or if he really wants to see me again.
“I’m sorry I made you late,” he continues, his thumb sweeping across my cheekbone. “I shouldn’t have insisted that you stay.”
“You didn’t—I wanted to stay, remember?” I say, leaning my cheek into the cradle of his hand. “AndI’mthe one who forgot to charge my phone. That’s not your fault.”
We stand here for what feels like forever, looking at each other, before he finally drops his hand and clears his throat. “You should probably go finish getting ready. There’s a brand-new toothbrush with your name on it on the bathroom sink—maid stocks them,” he explains before I can ask where he got a new toothbrush on such short notice. “Hurry up or you reallywillbe late.”
When I turn away to do as he says, he swats my ass and I let out another embarrassing yelp on my way to the bathroom.
When I emergefrom the bathroom ten minutes later, Lex is dressed, wearing the same shirt I wore to bed and a pair of jeans. He’s standing in front of the living room’s bay window, arms folded over his chest, staring at the pool, or maybe the main house on the other side of the property. My shoes, sweater and purse are stacked neatly together on a table near the front door. “Cab’ll be here in a few minutes,” he says without turning around.
“Oh.” I gather the rest of my stuff, pulling on my sweater before slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Okay—thank you.” More awkward silence. “I’ll just—”
“I’ll walk you out.” He finally looks at me and moves toward the door.
I shake my head again, practically lunging for it in an effort to get there first. “That’s not necessary.”
“Actually it is,” he says, taking me by my shoulders to turn me around until my back is toward him. I feel the pop and crackle of static electricity between my shoulder blades and look over my shoulder to see a pair of socks dangling from his pinched fingers. One hot pink with tacos and the other orange and green argyle. “If you’re caught creeping around the property without an escort, you’ll be detained by security.”
“Oh. Okay.” Embarrassed, I take my socks and tuck them into the front pocket of my jeans. I’ll put my shoes on in the cab. “Thanks.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just opens the door and gestures me through it.
Walking side-by-side like we did last night, neither of us talk until we’re across the cobblestone driveway and he’s leading me through an ivy-covered pedestrian gate set into the huge plaster wall that surrounds the property. When we step onto the sidewalk my cab is waiting curbside.
I turn to look at him, to tell him I don’t want to leave. That I want to see him again, but he stops me with a soft, almost brotherly kiss on my cheek. “See you around,Elle Who is Not an Actress,” he says when he pulls away from me, flashing me one of his gut-clenching grins.
“See you around,Lex the Super Villain.” I try to sound like he does. Casual. Easy about the fact that I was intimate with a total stranger that I’m never going to see again. A stranger I’ve become far too attached to in a ridiculously short amount of time.
Oxytocin.
The man has flooded my brain with what probably amounts to an oceans’ worth of oxytocin in only a handful of hours. That’s what this is.
That’s all it is.
It’ll wear off soon enough and I’ll be me again. I’ll come to my senses and realize that what happened last night was a mistake and that Lex McLeod is all wrong for me.
A few hours from now, I’ll be back to being me.
