Page 27 of One Little Mistake
Lexi rolls her gorgeous eyes and my heart beats erratically. “Wine,” she groans.
“Wine? How did you spill wine in your hair?”
“I didn’t.”
Pulling back so I can see her entire face, I raise my eyebrows in question. “If you didn’t spill it, how did it get here?” Without thinking, my index finger traces a red line down her neck.
“Freaking Maxim Savin threw it at me when I told him to stop manhandling the girl he was with. I think her name was Pacen?”
I didn’t hear her correctly.
“What did you say?”
Lexi tries to step away from me, but my grip tightens in her hair. When I see a hint of fear in her eyes, I release her, but don’t allow her to step away.
“I’ll never hurt you, Lexi.”
“You’re right,” she fires back.
“Tell me what happened. Please,” I whisper.
“I did. Fuckwad Maxim threw his drink in my face.”
I was angry when I saw Dillon holding her hand. I was pissed off when Pacen reminded me of her sister. But, enraged doesn’t even begin to explain my feelings as she recounts the messed up situation I abandoned her to.
It takes almost forty minutes for her to tell me every detail because I make her repeat it at least six times. By the time she’s finished, I watch the exhaustion hit her like a freight train. I did this to her. I was so absorbed in my own pain that I didn’t think about her.My father raised me better than this.
“Lex, I’m … I’m so sorry. None of this should have ever happened.”
“We all have stories that come to bite us in the ass sometimes, East. Just be thankful you had a friend in your corner when yours came calling.”
Her admission momentarily stuns me. Searching her face, I ask, “Is that what we are, Lexi? Friends?”
“Well, there are many ways to label us, East. You’re my boss. Our families are what? Family?”
“We’re family adjacent,” I grind out. I’m not sure why calling Lexi family rankles me so much, but it does. “We coined the term when mom started taking in strays.” A genuine smile pulls at my lips “But I think I might like friends better.”
Friends will never be enough with this girl.
Holy shit. Where the hell did that thought come from?
“I can handle friends, but I really need a shower. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? Lexi, you got assaulted. Why are you asking if I’m okay?”
“That’s not assault, East. I’ve experienced assault. That was a child throwing a temper tantrum. And, I’m asking if you’re okay because your story just came out of left field and hit you with a grand slam.”
This isn’t the first time she’s used a sports metaphor, but fuck me if I don’t love that she uses them correctly.
“I’m okay, Lex. Thank you. Go shower, and I’ll order us some dinner.”
“Oh, thanks. I’m really not hungry.”
I eye her in the now ruined sexy fucking dress, and I want to ask if she’s always been this thin, but I also know her well enough to know that might end in a slap across the face. So I make a mental note to ask Lanie.
“I’ll order extra in case you change your mind?”
She smiles and walks to her room as a thought hits me.
