Page 17 of Mr. Wrong
I watch Lex lean into the cab through the passenger side window, talking to the cab driver before straightening. He opens my door and I slide in, letting him shut it behind me.
Giving me one last smile, Lex thumps his fist on the roof of the cab before disappearing through the gate he just led me through.
I have to hook my feet under the seat in front of me to stop myself from running after him.
Did I say hours? I meant days.
Maybe months.
“Where to Miss?”
My attention snaps back to the driver. I’m being ridiculous. Lex isn’t real. Nothing that happened between us was real. It was just a one-night-stand. For all I know he offers breakfast and performs early morning oral on all his conquests. I’m not special.
I’ve never been special.
I never will be.
Not to someone like him.
So he made me coffee and washed my clothes. That means he’s considerate, not in love. Besides, he’s all wrong for me. He lives in his rich brother’s pool house and that rich brotherfiredhim, for Christ’s sake. I might not be his usual type but he’s not mine either. I like men with goals. Ambition. Someone who—
“Miss?”
“400 Farmstone Road,” I say, rattling off the address I committed to memory. “Brentwood?” I offer when the cabbie doesn’t so much as shift into drive.
“Is this some sort of joke?” He turns around in his seat to shoot me a suspicious scowl. “Is that Ashton Kutcher in the bushes with his camera crew?”
“Who?” I look out the window before bouncing my gaze back to his and shake my head. “I don’t—”
The driver glares at me, baring teeth that are stained from too much coffee and too many cigarettes. “Because I don’t have time for this shit—some of us have to work for a living.”
“What? No, this—” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, forcing myself to remain calm. “No, this is not a joke. I need to get to 400—”
“Miss, thisis400 Farmstone Road,” he says, his tone popping my eyes open to find him pointing toward the gate Lex just disappeared through. The ivy on the gate is trimmed away to display the address:
400 Farmstone Road
“Brentwood?” I hear myself say.
“That’s right—Brentwood,” the driver confirms, holding up a wad of cash. “And don’t think I’m giving this back.”
Twelve
Lex
See you around,Elle-who-is-not-an-actress?
That’s all I had to say?
See you around?
Jesus, I’m lame.
Even as I think it, I know that’s not the problem. Not the whole problem anyway. The problem is that I like her. Want to see her again—and not just to get her naked. I want to talk to her. Spend time with her.
That’s what I decided to tell her while she was in my bathroom. That I liked spending time with her. Talking to her in the dark. Waking up next to her. I was going to ask if I could see her again. Take her out on a date—a real date. One that involved food or maybe a motorcycle ride up the coast. That’s what I’d decided on, but then I remembered that I don’t have room in my life for that. Not with Cass—
She’s not your daughter, Lex. She’s mine and it’s my responsibility to do what I think is right for her.
