Good Boy (WAGs #1)(81)

A gasp gets stuck in my throat when I find Molly standing there.

Her expression darkens the moment her eyes meet mine, her pretty face a mixture of shock, anger and annoyance. “What are you doing here?” she demands.

I force myself to remain calm. But seriously? “Um, I think the more important question is, what are you doing here? And how did you get up here?”

Molly’s lips tighten. “Can you please take that chain off? It’s rude.”

I’m the rude one in this equation? Ha. Still, I slide off the chain and open the door a bit wider. But I don’t invite her in.

“The doorman said it was all right for me to come up,” Molly explains, averting her eyes. “I told him I knew Blake.”

Oh brother. This guy must be new then, because no one who’s worked in this upscale building for more than a day would ever let unapproved visitors into the elevator. I bet a hundred puck bunnies show up here daily claiming to know Blake or Wes.

I make a mental note to tell Blake to have a chat with the guy.

“Is he here?” she asks, trying to peer past me.

“He’s in the shower.”

Blake’s ex bites her lip. “Oh. I see. And you?”

“And me what?” I can’t stop a sarcastic retort. “Am I in the shower? No, Molly, I’m not in the shower.”

Irritation flickers in her eyes. “I need to speak to Blake. May I come inside and wait for him?”

I gape at her for a second. Then I answer in an incredulous tone. “No offense, but I don’t think Blake would appreciate coming out of the shower and finding you sitting on his couch. If you need to speak to him, why don’t you give him a call?”

She scowls, and it’s not a good look for her. “Because he’s not answering my calls.” She adjusts the strap of her black leather purse. “Look, I need to talk to him.”

“Why?” I ask bluntly.

Apparently Molly doesn’t like to be questioned, because she scowls even harder. “That’s none of your business, Janet.”

“It’s Jess,” I say in a tight voice. “Which you already know. And FYI? I’m sure you’re trying to make me feel inferior or some shit by purposely screwing up my name every time you see me, but it’s not working. You can call me Janet or Jackie or Julia-fucking-Child, but it won’t change the fact that I’m Blake’s girlfriend.”

God, I should probably shut my mouth already, but for some reason, I can’t stop talking. The sight of this woman—this woman who had the greatest man in the world and then lied to him in order to “keep” him…it’s infuriating.

“He kept your secret for five years,” I say in a low voice. “He allowed his family to think the worst of him. He allowed you to be the martyr when, in reality, you broke his heart. He did this because your reputation was more important to him than his.”

Molly has the decency to wince.

“But you didn’t deserve it,” I say frankly. “And you don’t deserve to even be in the same room as him. You’re here to apologize, right? To try to win his forgiveness so he talks to Brenna on your behalf? So your best friend stops thinking you’re a monster?”

Her cheeks redden.

“Do you realize how unfair that is?” My voice softens. “I won’t let you drag him back into your bullshit, Molly. I’ll tell him you stopped by. I’ll pass along whatever message you want me to give him, but if he asks for my opinion, I’m going to tell him that you’re not worth his time.”

“Jess,” she pleads, and there’s desperation in her eyes. She must be desperate if she’s actually using my name. “You need to do this for me. If you don’t, I’ll tell the WAGS you’re a gold-digger, and they’ll shun you.”

“Knock yourself out,” I growl. “I don’t give a crap about joining some club, even if they do make really yummy daiquiris. You hurt Blake. You hurt him, and I’m not letting you hurt him again, you hear me? So turn around, put your weepy, lying ass in the elevator and pick up the phone to leave him a message. Because there’s no way I’m letting you step foot in this apartment!”

Her mouth opens in a protest, but I’m already shutting the door. Then I lock it for good measure.

Maybe I was out of line. Maybe I overstepped, crossed a line that’s going to make Blake furious with me, but—

“Thank you.”

The gruff voice has me spinning around in shock. Blake is right behind me, clad in nothing but a towel that rides low on his hips. For once, he doesn’t offer a cocky remark about his nearly naked state. He doesn’t give me his goofy Blake grin or make some inappropriate comment.

He simply stands there, staring at me with something akin to wonder.

“How much of that did you hear?” I ask ruefully.

“Most of it.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “Nobody’s ever…” He clears his throat. “Ah, nobody’s ever defended me like that. I mean… Cheezus, Jessie, I think you actually would’ve beat her up if she tried coming in here.”

“Very likely,” I admit.

Now he grins. My Blake is back.





Blake


Closure. It’s a funny thing.