Page 100 of Desiring an Angel

He and I both loved Ashton too much for any other option.

I had considered trying to sit and talk to Rhett, but after his treatment of me during the party, I had no wish to discuss anything with him. From the minute he saw me at the bottom of the steps and his frown appeared to the second he’d uttered a word I hated, he’d pretty much been a jerk who needed to grow the hell up.

But I wasn’t one to talk.

I hadn’t taken his advice to seek medical help. I hadn’t made further attempts to seduce him. And I sure as hell had given up just trying to be kind and maybe win him over.

Emotionally exhausted, I felt as though I was failing left and right, that I wouldn’t ever be good enough for what both men might need.

Could I continue on with a big fat elephant sitting in the room whenever the three of us were together? Would feigning ignorance of Rhett’s true colors, his disgust over my personality, even work?

Just the memory, the muttered echo, of his chiding me the night before curled my shoulders forward and stung my eyes.

Something had to give before one of us broke down.

The doorbell sounded, pulling my attention back to the window in front of me and the ocean beyond.

I wasn’t aware that Rhett or Ashton expected anyone, but I wasn’t about to hesitate in the event they rang again and woke Ashton up.

The office door had stood open when I’d come downstairs, so I knew Rhett wasn’t at the house to answer.

I scurried toward the entryway, its windows alongside the front door allowing me to see the visitor.

Nora.

My feet stumbled to a stop, my heart rate racing forward and ripping the air from my lungs.

She peered into the window, catching sight of me—I couldn’t slip away and pretend I hadn’t heard the doorbell.

“Shit,” I muttered and swallowed hard, my entire body going cold.

Three steps, and I threw open the door, clutching my coffee in the other hand. “What do you want?” I snapped.

She took her time glancing down over my silk camisole and sleep shorts Ashton had bought for me the week before.

“Mom and Dad sent me to check on you since you won’t answer their calls.” She sounded bored.

“How did you find me?”

“Your…boyfriend introduced himself to me that night at my house, and Google did the rest,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll admit you’ve done well for yourself. He and his partner are quite the catch.”

Because they had money? Prestige?

“I would have left you and stayed with them even if they lived in a trailer,” I stated, my chin lifting though my pulse still thundered. Hell, if that had been their circumstances, I doubted their so-called friends from the night before would be in the picture. Rhett wouldn’t care about reputation or putting on a good show for them.

Never before had I desired poverty or wished pennilessness on a person, but in that moment, I yearned for that exact thing.

“How many other women have those two taken advantage of?” Nora asked, glancing over my shoulder as though seeking out all of Ashton and Rhett’s flaws.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I huffed, annoyed she would judge them without taking the time to see their characters.

“Ashton Blackwood and Rhett Stirling are Missing Link’s creators, Skylar. Don’t be so naive. They made that app for a reason: Find women willing to engage in unnatural sexual acts.”

My brain took a few seconds to process what she claimed, and a riot of thoughts and feelings rushed through me, swamping my mind.

I’d seen the notepad on Rhett’s desk that first morning of exploration but hadn’t even guessed they might be the owners of the app that had matched us together.

But why hadn’t they told me?

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