Spark (Heat #2)(7)

"What?" He takes a step forward. "What women? There was one woman, Cadence."

"Neela," I say her name quietly before I even realize it's left my lips.

He jerks back at the mention of her name. His arms drop as he leans forward to rest his hand on the corner of the headboard. "Neela is nothing like Brendon. Don't compare the two of them."

"I wasn't comparing," I mutter. How can I compare the two of them? I haven't even found the courage to Google Neela's name yet. I don't know her surname but I'm guessing that it won't be hard to uncover at least a picture or two of a chef named Neela who lives in Boston.

"She's in a class above Trevino." His jaw tightens. "She wouldn't give a guy like that the time of day. Neela doesn't get into bed with *s. She respects herself too much."

Anger knots in my stomach. Apparently Neela has * radar. It's something I didn't have when I f*cked Brendon. I was still lacking it as of thirty minutes ago because I screwed Chef Monroe, who is proving to be an impressive * in his own right.

I yank hard on the sheet to free it from the bed. I wrap it completely around my nude body as I move to the edge and swing my feet to the floor.

"Don't go, Cadence."

I turn to look at him. My heart is pounding in my chest. "I'm not staying, Tyler. Do you seriously think I'd hang around after what you just said to me?"

"I didn't mean it the way it sounded." He frowns. "It took me by surprise that you knew Neela's name."

"Maribel told me." I take a step back as he reaches his hand toward me. "Don't touch me."

"You know about Neela," he says it aloud, but the tone is off. It's almost as if he's talking to himself. "I don't want to talk about her. Tell me about the guy from Magari."

"No," I spit back.

"Why won't you tell me who it is?" His voice is stern.

I shake my head slightly. "This is crazy. Can't you see how ridiculous this conversation is?"

He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes searching my face. "What's his name?"

I ignore his question in favor of my own. I have to. All the fury that's burrowed in my gut is about to tunnel out in the form of words I know I'll regret later. The only reason I haven't turned and walked out yet is that I'm not leaving while he thinks he has the upper hand. He needs to know the damage that his callous and ego-driven words have done. "Why did you automatically assume that I spread my legs for yet another chef just because I didn't want to have dinner at Magari?"

Realization washes over his expression. "I didn't automatically assume that."

"You did." I press my index finger in the center of his bare chest, pushing. "You think I'll hop on any dick as long as it's attached to a chef. Is that it, Tyler?"

The fact that he has to cover his half-smile with his hand only infuriates me more. "No, Cadence. I don’t think that."

"I'm leaving." I reach down to scoop my sundress up into my fist from where he tossed it on the floor when he was undressing me. "If you decide to chow down at Magari, you can rest assured that I haven't f*cked anyone who has ever worked there. I'm not a slut, Chef. Sorry to disappoint."

I deliberately block out everything he's saying even though he's a step behind me when I slide my dress on, grab my bag and storm out of his apartment.





CHAPTER 6


My heart still feels like it's stuck somewhere in my throat when I walk into my place to find Sophia on her knees in the living room surrounded by three different fabrics, each a slightly different shade of green.

"It's about time." She darts to her feet. "I've been waiting for hours for you. That was the longest meeting ever."

I nod. I decided on the subway that I wouldn't blurt out everything that happened with Tyler the second I got home. I need to decompress and the quickest way for me to do that is to allow Sophia to pull me into her world.

Without fail, she's always got something on her mind that she wants to discuss when we see each other. Tonight, it looks like it's a new garment design that, no doubt, I'll be wearing within the week.

"I chose green for this because of your eyes." She claps her hands together. "Which shade do you like best?"

I walk over to where she's standing. She's turned on virtually every light fixture in the room but it's still not enough to distinguish the unique color of each fabric. We'd need to do that by the window, in the morning when the sun rises.

Judging by the nervous energy flowing from Sophia, she's got her sewing machine primed and ready to go so I'll need to make a decision on the spot.

"Can I see the design?" I struggle to focus on what she's asking of me.

I can't think straight right now. I'd left Tyler's feeling so bereft that I almost missed my subway stop. I could have eased some of that by answering when he called me, but I didn't. I turned the ringer off on my phone and buried it at the bottom of my purse instead.

"This time it's a surprise." She giggles. "You don't get to see the design until your first fitting."

"When's that going to happen?" I smile at the way she's bouncing in place. "Have you been drinking coffee all night?"