Page 168 of Boss of Me
When Gianna accidentally knocked a plate of tuna carpaccio out of our waiter’s hand, she turned several shades of red before bursting into hysterical giggles that drew disapproving stares.
“Oh, my God!” she squealed after the waiter cleaned up the mess and hurried away. “You must think I’m a total klutz!”
“Not at all,” I murmured. I’d take clumsiness over brainlessness any day, though Gianna was veering perilously close to embodying both.
“You’ve got me so nervous,” she admitted breathlessly. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve had a crush on you since I was eighteen. Your first GQ cover was my Insta profile pic for the longest time. You’re so damn smart and sophisticated, not to mention freaking hot. It’s totally nerve-racking!”
I smiled kindly. “You don’t have to be nervous, Gianna. I don’t bite.”
“Not even if I want you to?” In the blink of an eye, she went from flustered to flirty.
She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it. It would have been so easy to take her home and fuck her silly little brains out. God knew I needed to blow off some steam and forget my troubles for a few hours.
But I had no interest in sharing my bed with her or any other woman. I’d only recently allowed the new cleaning service to change my sheets, because I was pathetically clinging to the last traces of Marlowe’s fading scent.
After dinner Gianna drove me home and boldly propositioned me, sliding her hand up my thigh until I caught her wrist to stop her.
When she shot me a surprised look, I said quietly but firmly, “Thank you for dinner. But I’m afraid our date ends here.”
She looked genuinely astounded. “If you’re worried about my dad, he doesn’t have to know. And honestly, he wouldn’t even mind if we hooked up. He thinks the world of you and would love to have you as a son-in-law.”
Jesus! Jumping the gun much?
I gave her a long look, watching her falter and blush under my gaze. “I’m grateful for all the support your father has given me over the years. For that reason, I could never disrespect him by using his daughter’s body for stress relief. Which is all you would ever mean to me, Gianna. Do you understand what I’m saying? This”—I motioned between us—“is never going to happen.”
She looked crushed. Then angry. “You’re still hung up on your ex. But I saw a picture of her on some music blog. Her best friend’s dating the lead guitarist of some indie band. She and Marlowe were backstage after their concert, and the drummer had his arm around Marlowe’s shoulders. If they’re not already hooking up, they probably will be soon.”
Everything in me went ballistic at this news, but I kept my tone remarkably even. “If you ever need my help, you’ll have it. But that’s all I can give you, Gianna. Nothing more.” Before she could say anything else, I got out of the car and closed the door, literally and metaphorically.
“Was that the reason?” My father’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
I frown at him. “What?”
He’s watching me, his eyes speculative and assessing. “Is that why you ended things with Marlowe? To see other people? To finish sowing your wild oats?”
I grit my teeth and fight the urge to yell. “For the last time, it wasn’t working out between us. We’re too different?—”
Dad huffs a laugh. “Who you think you foolin’? That pretty little lady is smart as a whip and stubborn as hell. You met your match and then some.”
Pain sears through my chest. But I say nothing, calmly crossing one boot-clad foot over the other.
“Maverick could tell you were in love with Marlowe the night she played the piano at your dinner party. He says he took one look at your face and knew you were already a goner.”
I swallow hard and glance away from my father, afraid he’ll see the fear and vulnerability in my eyes.
Letting Marlowe go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. When I walked out on her that day, I had to stop outside the library and lean back against the wall just to catch my breath. My chest felt so tight I thought I was having a fucking heart attack.
I knew getting over her would be brutal, but I vastly underestimated the aching emptiness and bottomless pain that would engulf me in the days and weeks ahead.
Since she’s been gone, I wake up heartbroken every morning. Every breath without her feels like a hot knife ripping through my lungs. I miss her so much I’ve lost whole days at a time just thinking about her. Wanting her. Needing her.
I am so fucking doomed.
My father gives me a remorseful look. “It’s my fault that you and Maverick have commitment issues. Mine and, to a lesser extent, your mother’s fault.”
That makes me scowl. “I don’t have commitment issues. Let’s not forget I was engaged for six damn months.”
“Ah, son,” Dad says with a sad shake of his head. “You proposed to Laurene because you thought it was the right thing to do. Not because you loved her or believed she could make you happy.”
