If You Leave (Beautifully Broken #2)

If You Leave (Beautifully Broken #2) Page 36

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I smile absently as I glance at her résumé in my hand.

“OK. Well, I know Brand has already interviewed you, so we’ll talk and then one of us will get back to you.”

Alex smiles again from where she’s sitting at the table in my hotel room. She’s young and sort of pretty. Her eye makeup is thick and dark, slightly smeared at the corners. Her red lipstick is severe. As I watch, she crosses, then uncrosses her legs.

Hello, shaved pussy. I can’t believe my eyes. Did she just give me a shot of her crotch on purpose? What the hell?

“I really need this job,” she tells me, her voice turning husky and suggestive. “Is there anything I can do to get it?”

Boom. She did. Fucking hell. It’s like the universe is offering her to me, giving me an opportunity to take my mind off Madison.

Surely it won’t be that easy.

But Alex is getting up and moving toward me, her eyes on my lips.

“I can be very persuasive,” she whispers as she shoves me backward onto the bed, sliding her slim form between my legs.

“You definitely can,” I agree, automatically sliding my hands up her hips. “Did you try and persuade Brand like this?”

She giggles. “No. I didn’t need to. He told me that he likes me. If you like me, then I get the job.”

Hell.

My conscience disappears as the blood flow is redirected from one head to the other.

“Well, you’d better show me your qualifications.”

Alex bends her head, kissing me firmly. She tastes like chocolate. It’s foreign, but not unpleasant. I kiss her back.

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” I finally tell her, and I’m actually not sure if I’m telling her or myself.

“I want to,” she tells me. “Have you looked at yourself?”

So now she’s appealing to my ego too. Smart girl.

She reaches down and cups my dick, making it a perfect trifecta. Hormones, ego, dick. She’s got her bases covered. My body reacts like it always does. It gets hard.

I roll her over and cover her body with mine, sliding my hand up under her short skirt. I should’ve known something was up when she wore such a tiny skirt to an interview.

I get harder as I slip my fingers into her.

My thoughts cloud as I move toward an ending that I know will take me away from reality, from stress, from worrying about doing the right thing, from Madison.

When I do this, I don’t have to think.

I just have to feel.

It’s natural, instinctive.

Alex moans and I close my eyes. I don’t want to see her. I just want to feel her. I move my fingers inside her deeper, faster. And then I shove her skirt up higher, not bothering to take it off.

She fumbles to help me, saying my name. The breathy way she says it gives me pause and I open my eyes.

She’s splayed out on the rumpled hotel bed like an offering, her hair mussed.

The way she said my name reminded me of Madison.

I swallow hard, frozen above her, suspended.

“What?” she asks in confusion, opening her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t sound like Madison now. She doesn’t look like her, doesn’t smell like her. Because she’s not Madison.

She might not be Madison, but in my head that’s all I see. Maddy’s grin, her blue eyes, her gorgeous body. I picture the expression on her face when she was on my lap the other night, loving, soft, understanding.

Fuck you, Gabe.

I feel the pulse in my throat as I try to swallow around it. Maddy doesn’t want me. Not anymore and I can’t blame her. And if there’s one way to get one woman out of my head, surely it’s to fuck another one.

Someone who does want me.

I shake my head.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I finally lie.

I turn my attention back to Alex and run my fingers along her side, a side that is thicker than Maddy’s. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I want it hard,” she moans. “Fuck me hard, Gabe.”

A sour taste pools in my mouth, but I ignore it as I drop my head and bury it in Alex’s neck and unfasten my shorts. She grips my shoulders tight, pulling me to her, burying her tongue in my mouth.

She doesn’t taste right.

She doesn’t smell right.

And my dick knows it because all of a sudden I’m not hard anymore.

I push against her again, but it’s no use. I’m not hard. I’m not going to get hard. Because all I can see in my head is Madison. I roll off and head to the shower without looking back.

I can hear Alex’s confused questions behind me, but I don’t care.

As the water rushes down over my head and shoulders, I crank the handle all the way over to cold.

Fuck.

I’m in seriously deep shit here.

A flash of Madison pops into my head again. Her blue eyes, soft and sincere. Her long slender legs wrapped around my hips.

You’re someone who won’t hurt me.

I practically groan. I have the feeling I could sleep with a thousand different women in a thousand different hollow fucks and I’d never be able to shake Maddy from my mind.

If I can fuck someone else, which is apparently questionable.

What is it about Madison that holds me so tight?

Everything.

I groan. Is it possible that I could be with her and not hurt her?

It’s a moot question since I’ve already left her. But it’s a question that I can’t quite shake.

The idea of that kind of intimacy sends my stomach up into my throat and I lean my head against the shower wall. That kind of intimacy is terrifying.

But all of a sudden, for reasons that I can’t understand and can’t explain, being without it is terrifying too.

After five days, I decide that I fucking hate Denver.

I fucking hate my life.

And I fucking hate myself.

I’m pretty sure all these feelings are very apparent to everyone around me because I’ve been a total dick.

Today, after meeting with the potential contractors at the new factory site, Alex and I came back to the table in my hotel room to look through their bids. But I don’t want to be here. There’s only one place I want to be and if I can’t be there, then fuck everyone.

I rub at my red eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. The whiskey I’ve been using to try to fix my bad attitude has had the exact opposite effect. Hangovers fucking blow.

Alex hands me some ibuprofen. “Here. This will help.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, knocking four of them back with some water.

For some reason Alex is sticking close by, she gets here early and she stays late.

It’s like she took my inability to perform with her and my distance and my dickhead attitude as a personal challenge. I can’t figure it out, but then again, I can’t figure out women in general.

“How long do you think you’ll be here?” Alex asks absently, running her finger along my back. I instinctively move away. She’s been touching me at every opportunity, because she clearly believes that she’s irresistible. She has no idea how much it’s not working for me.

“I don’t know,” I answer. “As long as it takes to get everything set up, I guess.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Alex pouts, sticking her bottom lip out. “I like having you here.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. There’s no way she likes the way I am. I’m onto her. She just wants to sleep with the boss.

“Well, you knew that I wasn’t staying,” I remind her. “It’s the whole reason we needed to hire an assistant, so that you could handle day-to-day stuff for us when we’re not here.”

“I know,” she acknowledges. “But still.”

Still nothing.

I duck into the bathroom and when I come back out, Alex is standing in the middle of the room, completely nude.

“What the hell?” I mutter. Even though I don’t want her, I can’t exactly look away either. She’s naked, for God sake. She’s young and has perfect tits. Before I can even say anything, though, before I can tell her to put her clothes back on, there’s a knock on the door.

“I ordered room service,” Alex says helpfully.

“Well, obviously you should take your clothes off, then,” I mutter wryly. What the fuck? I shake my head and grab the bedspread from the bed, wrapping it around her as I head for the door. I open it without even looking and am surprised as hell to find Brand standing in front of me, filling up the doorway.

He takes in the scene quickly: at the assistant standing naked behind me, the bed rumpled and seemingly used. It’s pretty easy to jump to the wrong conclusion.

And he does.

“You didn’t,” Brand exclaims, barging on in. “Gabe, what the fuck, dude?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say by way of explanation. “And I thought you were still in Chicago.”

Brand turns to Alex. “Alex, hon, could you give us a minute?”

She scrambles to put her clothes on, while Brand looks away. “I’ll go down and get a coffee,” she says quickly, not looking back as she darts out the door.

Brand glares at me.

“What the fuck, Gabe?” He eyes the empty bottle of whiskey on the table. “Seriously? You’ve been holed up here in the hotel getting drunk and banging our new assistant?”

I glance at the empty bottle. “I’ve only been drinking at night,” I clarify. “And I’m not banging the assistant.”

Brand cocks his head and I can see why he doesn’t believe me, not that any of it matters.

“Whatever,” I mutter. “Think what you want.”

“Dude, you know that Pax Tate isn’t interested in being an investor now that you fucked over his sister-in-law. We have to get serious and find a new one. We can’t do that if you’re drinking yourself away in this room. And Jesus, we don’t need a sexual harassment suit from our assistant.”

“For the last time.” I grit my teeth. “I didn’t fuck her. I could sue her for sexual harassment, for God’s sake. She practically threw herself at me. Right before you got here, I went to the head and when I came out, she was standing there buck-ass naked.”

Brand is interested now. “Seriously? Nice!”

I stare at him. “Nice? You were just lecturing me on banging the assistant.”

He shrugs. “True. And I’m glad we don’t have to worry about a harassment suit, but it’s still pretty weird that you passed that shit up. What’s going on, dude? If you want to be in Angel Bay with the leggy blonde, you need to just go. That would solve two problems—your bad disposition and our investor problem. If you go back, Tate would probably invest.”

“So you want to whore me out for the business?” I smile grimly. He rolls his eyes.

“I hardly think it would be against your will. What the fuck are you doing, bro?”

I know he’s not talking about the business now and I glare at him as I clean up the mess on the table.

“Since when do you care about the women I leave behind?” I ask.

Brand eyes me. “I don’t. But I do care about you. And I hate watching you fuck up something that was making you happy.”