Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(77)

“I thought you weren’t jealous,” he said, his voice hard.

Did he not want me to be? I looked down at the desk between us, unwilling to look at him. “I thought you weren’t jealous either.”

He scoffed, and at the sound, I lifted my head. Our eyes locked. My gaze held a challenge. Daring him to let me go home with Brent. His eyes seemed to hold the same challenge. Or something. I didn’t even know anymore. Maybe I’d had too much champagne, but I knew that no amount of alcohol was going to dull the fire inside me. I was burning for his touch, for his kiss, for him. After a moment, he punched the top of his desk, making me jolt.

“Apparently I f*cking am,” he muttered, and cleared his throat as he slid two papers across the table.

My mouth dropped. I couldn’t even respond. I just reached for the papers and looked at them, though I couldn’t even make out the words.

“One is just finalizing the terms, the other is the agreement that you’ll go to that red carpet event with Gabriel.”

I put my left hand on the paper, my right hand reaching for the pen he offered. He held it until I acknowledged his gaze on mine. Our faces were close. So close. Too close. My heart jumped.

“Don’t go, Nic,” he said, his voice so soft I had to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

“I saw the pictures of you and the blonde,” I said, licking my lips. His eyes dropped to my mouth momentarily before he looked back at me.

“Nicole,” he said, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “You know why I’m with her.”

“For the media? So that people will think we’re not together? To make those pictures go away?” I posed, my voice rising with each word I said. “Do you forget I was married to a celebrity?”

His jaw clenched. My eyes shot to the Band-Aid on his face. “I can’t forget you were married to a celebrity. I’m reminded of that every time I f*cking turn around. You’re not the only one being harassed by the paparazzi.”

“Oh. I’m sorry I’ve made your life so difficult,” I said, yanking the pen from his hand and signing both papers. I dropped the pen and glared up at him. “Is this it?”

We both stood up and looked at each other. I could tell he wanted to say a million things, but I knew he wouldn’t, and I was sick of that. Despite the stupid paper I’d just signed, I was sick of men acting like I had to cater to their needs. I was okay with bending over backward for somebody who would return the favor, but I wasn’t going to do it for somebody who wasn’t willing to reciprocate.

He walked around his desk and stood in front of me. I took a step back, but didn’t stop his hand from circling around my waist, or his lips from crashing down on mine. I got lost in that moment, with our lips locked and our hearts pressed against one another. It was a slow kiss, not urgent, but it held the sparks that Brent’s hadn’t. Victor’s lips were meant to mold against mine. They were meant to push me over the edge. But they shouldn’t. They couldn’t. We couldn’t. And that was the realization that made me break the kiss.

“Don’t go to the premiere,” he said, a hard breath against my lips.

“Are you telling me this as my attorney?”

He took a step back, raking his fingers through his hair as he looked away. I felt my heart sink as I followed his line of vision from the floor to the large window in his office. We couldn’t see the ocean in the dark, but the sound of the waves was soothing enough.

“No,” he said finally, his voice low.

Our eyes met again. “Are you staying with the blonde?”

“I’m not with the blonde.”

I rolled my eyes and took out my phone, holding up the pictures Chrissy had sent me. Surely he would understand how much it had hurt me to see these. “Your tongue down her throat tells a different story.”

“Jesus Christ, Nicole. It was a f*cking picture. Pictures hold more lies than they do truths. You of all people should know that.”

“I can’t erase what I saw.”

He let out a laugh and muttered, “Tell me about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, knowing he was thinking about the pictures of me and Gabe. “Those were taken before . . . before us!”

“And these were taken because of us,” he shouted, pointing toward the door.

I knew he was right, but it didn’t change anything. Unless it did.

“Will me not going to the premiere change anything? Between us?” I asked. He closed his eyes, and didn’t open them as he shook his head slowly. I closed mine as well, trying to rein in the pain. I didn’t do pain publicly. I swallowed and crushed it.

“Okay. I’ll see you around, Vic,” I whispered, walking out and heading to the bathroom. On my way there I let Brent know I was ready to go as soon as I got out. In there, I was hoping to calm myself, but then ran into Grace, who seemed startled to see me.

“I thought you’d left,” she said. “Did you see my dad out there by any chance?”

I frowned, trying to think about when I’d spoken to my uncle. I was pretty sure it was when I was having my first glass of champagne. I’d been pretty good about going around the room and talking to everybody, introducing them to Brent, but once Victor got there it all became a blur. He seemed to have that effect on me.