Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(24)

“Where the fuck are you, Vaughn?” I mutter from the back seat of the car. The night isn’t getting any shorter, and this whiskey I keep refilling my glass with is definitely not making me feel any better.

But the car parked in her driveway sure as fuck isn’t hers. Every part of me hopes that it’s Archer’s, but even I know better than to tell myself that lie. There’s no way the privileged party boy drives a grocery getter like that.

Not a one.

So who the fuck is here with her?

“Sir?”

I look into the rearview mirror and meet Al’s gaze. “I don’t fucking know,” I mutter and climb out of the car without another word. Of course my driver thinks I’m fucking crazy. Why shouldn’t he? He’s been with me for over five years, and not once has he ever seen me sit outside a woman’s house and stare like a lovesick asshole without a chance in hell.

The woman is making me crazy.

Absolutely fucking insane.

I don’t hesitate, though, when I knock on the door, because deep down I know who is going to answer, and maybe I’m looking for a fight.

She ran out on me. Again. She ran out after hearing me say things I never expected to speak but that came out nonetheless. First in the hallway with her and then in my speech.

But when I call I still go straight to voice mail, so I’ll assume my number is still blocked on her cell. I’m not spending another goddamn night like this.

I refuse.

The lock jiggles behind the door, and Joey looks startled when he opens it to see me standing there.

“She’s not here,” he whispers.

“No?”

He lifts his eyebrows as I study the fuck out of him to see if he’s lying, and he surprises me when he steps outside and shuts the door behind him. “Lucy’s asleep,” he explains.

“She’s not here?” I ask again.

“Lucy? Yeah, she’s here. Didn’t I just say she’s asleep?”

Sarcastic asshole.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“She deserves better than you, you know?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and the little fuck you smile on his lips has me clenching my fists.

“Are we talking about Lucy here or Vaughn? Because it seems you’re trying to be the gatekeeper for both.”

“Vaughn deserves better,” he repeats.

“You’re right. She does,” I say, enjoying his little sputter in response. “But it’s impossible to fight a battle you never saw coming. Now, you mind telling me where Vaughn is?”

“It’s none of your business.”

My chuckle carries through the night. “That’s where you’re wrong, but I’ll let it slide.” I take a step forward. “She come home after the gala?”

I see the no in his eyes before he repeats his line. “Not your business.”

“If she had, you wouldn’t still be here . . . so I’ll take that as my answer.” I take a step back.

“Did you ever think maybe she is home and she asked me to stay because she enjoys the company of someone who doesn’t treat her like their plaything?”

“So you’re dating, then?” I ask to call his bluff. “Isn’t that grounds for termination at your job?”

Joey’s instant stammering over what to say next is answer enough. She’s not home, and he thinks he has the balls to stand up to me, but when the rubber meets the road, he’s a pussy.

“Thanks, man.” I pat him on the shoulder a little harder than necessary. “I appreciate the help, though.”

And when I stride back down the walk toward the car with him staring at my back, I’m not any fucking better off than when I got here.

She’s not here.

I am.

Once again, we’re in two different places, seemingly wanting two different things.

I’m beginning to think fate has it out for us.

Either that or I’m fighting an uphill battle.

Thank fuck I know a thing or two about fighting.

“Where to?” Al asks when I climb back into the car and slam the door.

“Hell if I know,” I mutter and lift the glass to my lips. “Home, I guess.”

The night flies by outside. The lights of the city. The red of the stoplights. The darkness as we cross the bridge. The brightness as we enter downtown and then uptown.

Every woman I see out and about, I swear could be Vaughn.

But nothing eases in my chest during the drive.

Not the ache. Not the worry. Not the want.

I blow out a resigned breath when we pull up to the curb of my building. A small part of me hoped she’d be sitting here in the lobby. Nothing. It’s empty. My only companion is the hum of the elevator car as I ride to my floor.

The door dings, then slides open.

At the end of the hallway of sorts is someone sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest.

Vaughn.

This time it really is her.

Her thick lashes flutter and look up so that those aqua-colored eyes of hers meet mine across the distance. Emotions war through them—confusion, hurt, forgiveness—each one trying to win its place, and hell if I’m not rooting for forgiveness to win.

Followed a close goddamn second by lust.

I stop in my tracks as she rises to her feet. It takes everything I have to stop when all I want to do is pull her against me and take the rest of what I started earlier tonight.