Oh no. Greer stared down at the phone in her hand. Don’t do it, Donna. Don’t—
“There you go,” said a triumphant voice just as Greer pulled the earbuds out of her ears. Donna stood at Greer’s booth, extending a triumphant hand at the guilty party. Asher was there with her, a hint of a frown on his face.
Greer just swiped at the tears on her cheeks.
Donna waved her rhinestone-crusted phone in the air. “You’ve been on speakerphone the entire time. How’s that for trust?”
The look on Asher’s face darkened. He looked at Greer, then at Donna. “This was all a setup by the two of you?”
“No,” Greer said quietly.
“If by setup, do you mean we want you back?” Donna put her hands on her hips. “I thought I did.”
Asher looked back at Greer again, as if daring her to deny what had happened.
She couldn’t. She licked her lips, anxious, and quietly turned her phone off and stuck it in her purse. “Asher—”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her forward. “Come with me, Greer. We need to talk.”
Yeah, they did. Greer nodded and slid out of the booth. She couldn’t help but notice that Asher grabbed her hand again the moment she was standing.
“So what now?” Donna asked. She tossed her beautiful red hair. “What about me?”
Asher leaned in to her. “You can go fuck yourself.” Then he tugged on Greer’s hand. “We’re leaving.”
Chapter 14
Asher was furious.
Furious, and he knew he didn’t have any right to be. Seeing Greer there with Donna and realizing they’d pulled a trick on him? Realizing that he’d been going on and on about how Greer had always been there for him only to find out she was deceiving him right under his nose? It pissed him off and he knew that made him the world’s biggest hypocrite, but he didn’t care. They needed to have a private discussion and not in front of Donna.
So he clasped her fingers in his and pulled her along in his ruthless march onto the sidewalk. Greer’s small hand was clammy in his as he dragged her through the crowded streets of New York.
“Where are we going?” she asked after they swerved through a tangle of people.
He didn’t know that, either. His brain was a jumble of anger at the situation and relief at seeing her again. He wanted to pull her against him and kiss her until she was blue in the face just because she looked healthy and whole and he’d found her. He was so damn glad he’d found her. And yet . . . he wanted to bend her over his knee and spank her for leaving him without a word. He wanted to spank her again because she’d been deceiving him.
“Your apartment?” she suggested delicately when he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and people began to swerve around them.
He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to protect her. Even in his anger, he didn’t want her to be shoved or hurt. He noticed that she moved instinctively closer to him, and it helped cool his anger a bit. Asher nodded. “My apartment.” He moved to the curb and raised a hand, flagging a taxi. When one stopped, he opened the door for her and she got in.
The moment he slid in next to her, her thigh brushed his and a rush of memories came crashing back. His anger and frustration at her disappearing without a trace again. His misery when he realized he’d somehow fucked up again and she was ignoring him. His frantic need to find her again, only to be turned away at the door to her building. Hours staring at his phone, willing her to text him back, just to get nothing in return.
On impulse, he pulled her against him and cupped her chin. “You can be mad at me later, but right now, I’m going to kiss you.”
She gave him a puzzled look from behind her glasses. “What—”
He silenced her with his mouth. No excuses, no explanations, just a meeting of lips and a quiet reassurance to him that she was there and she was his. She didn’t fight or protest; she melted against him. Her arms twined around his neck and she leaned into his body, her tongue stroking against his, and he felt a surge of fierce, possessive pleasure.
Whatever was going on between them wasn’t too broken for her to kiss him. He’d take that small victory.
He continued to kiss her, licking at her sweet mouth with deep strokes until the car stopped. She stared up at him, dazed, a look of drugged pleasure on her expressive face. “Upstairs,” he said between kisses. “We’ll finish this upstairs.”
Of course, by the time he’d paid the cabdriver and they’d taken the elevator back to his apartment, his head had cooled a little. He watched her, noticing the guilt in her expression and the way she fussed with her glasses to deliberately avoid eye contact. Yeah, someone was definitely feeling a little awkward at being caught. As well she should, he thought with irritation. What she’d done was a shitty, shitty thing.
He shut the door to the apartment and watched her as she stepped into the foyer. “So, you want to tell me what all this is about?”
“Not particularly, but I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?” She nervously tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I asked Donna to meet you and throw herself at you to see how you’d react.”
Just the thought made his head want to explode. “What the fuck, Greer?”
“I knew it was stupid,” she continued in that calm, even voice. “I just didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to know how you really felt about me and that seemed like the only way.”
He raked a hand through his hair. Fuck. She’d pushed his ex in his face just to see how he’d react? She’d fucking tried to trap him. Anger surged. “Why didn’t you fucking ask me how I felt? How’s that for starters?” He threw his hands up in the air. “Or how about listen to me all the times that I tell you that you’re beautiful and I love you?”