Page 125 of Forever Wild
“I’m going to grab another drink,” I say and stand from his lap.
He pulls me back down. “I’ll get the drinks. You stay with your friends.”
His lips graze my neck and he deposits me onto the chair while he gets up and goes to the bar. I stare after him, feeling happier than I can ever remember.
Liam, a listing agent at the office, slides closer to me, dragging my attention away from my man and his fine ass.
“Congratulations. I saw the offer come in just as I was leaving the office,” he says.
“Thanks. I don’t think the buyer is going to take it, but it’s a start.”
His brows pinch together. “There was another offer. You didn’t hear?”
“No.” My excitement lifts. “Really?”
He nods, grinning. “They offered above listing. All cash. Thirty-day closing.”
My heart races. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I handed it over to Heather myself.”
It feels too good to be true. Another offer.Abovethe listing price. Something tickles my brain. I glance back at Jack.
“When did you say the offer came in?” I ask Liam.
“An hour or so ago.”
The same time Jack said he needed to make some calls.
I nod and then say, “Excuse me.”
Jack smiles when he sees me approaching him at the bar, but it falls at my expression.
“Did you buy my house?” I demand.
He keeps staring at me like he’s deciding how to answer. Finally he says, “I put in an offer and it was accepted.” He takes a drink from the glass in front of him. “I guess technically it’s my house.”
“Why would you do that?” I ask, voice climbing with irritation. Here I was thinking my work had paid off, and it’s just Jack doingwhat he promised he wouldn’t do.
“Because I love that house. It’s perfect. I told you I’ve been thinking about a place up here. It was too good to pass up.”
“You promised,” I say, and I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed in him or myself for believing him.
I step away from him, grab my purse, and head outside, walking back toward my apartment.
I know it’s his footsteps behind me, but I don’t slow down even when he calls, “Ev, wait up.”
He jogs to get in front of me. “I promised not to interfere with your job, and I didn’t. I waited until you already had an offer.”
I glare at him. It’s semantics and he knows it. I brush past him, but he takes me by the arm and forces me to look at him.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I wanted to make sure it went through first.”
“Why?” I ask, and I’m not even sure what I’m asking. Why did he promise at all if he wasn’t going to stand by it? Why did he have to interfere with my job? Why did he have to make me question all the pride I’ve felt in the past few hours?
“Because…” He trails off, then runs a hand through his dark hair.
“All my work feels completely irrelevant now. I’ll never know if it sold because I did a good job or because you’re too selfish to not interfere. Don’t you understand?” I ask quietly.
