Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(96)

I could only stare, at a loss at what to respond to first. But Drew barreled on, oblivious.

“My point is, he can’t give you want you need, what you’re accustomed to, and in any case, it’s not fair to ask. The disparity is too great. You know it, I know it, and you can bet Cory—as a man—knows it.”

I sat back in my chair. “Do you think…he thinks that?”

“Of course he does. But you and I, we make sense. We have a clean slate. No debt, we share all the same friends, we have successful careers…”

“And no lives outside those careers,” I muttered. “We never go anywhere, or do anything.”

Drew seemed not to have heard, intent on his sandwich. I hung my head in my hands, elbows on the table, and tore my fingers through my hair. This would be so much easier if he just hated me.

I raised my head to find him studying me. “What?”

“Have you gained a little weight? And your hair…You look different. Vibrant.” He smiled. “Must be this time off work.”

Or the six orgasms Cory gave me last night.

A laugh burst out of my throat. Or maybe it was a sob. I couldn’t tell.

Drew reached across the table to pat my hand. “Here’s the bottom line: I love you. I think we make a great team and if this is the way we keep going, then I’m willing.”

“What do you mean, ‘if this is the way we keep going’? What way?”

He looked exasperated. “Do I need to spell it out?”

“Yes, you do.” I leaned forward over the table. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying that there’s a reason I wanted you to keep the bungalow. To have a place to yourself. To have…guests, from time to time. So that our partnership doesn’t have to be wasted because of my failing.”

I sat back, stunned, and with a deep well of sadness blooming in the pit of my stomach. “Oh Drew, no…”

“Isn’t that why Cory’s there? Or why you’re there with him?”

“No,” Alex said. “Last night was the only time…” Liar. The bank. Let’s not forget that. I tried again. “Last night was the last time—”

“I don’t want details,” Drew said, waving his hands. “That’s part of the deal. I’ll never want details, okay? It’s hard enough talking about it now.”

I covered my eyes. “I feel sick.”

“Why? From what I suggested?”

“From what you suggested, from what I did...” I looked at him. “You didn’t fail, Drew. You don’t have failings. If anyone has failings, it’s me. A lot of them. I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing.”

“I do.”

“You know what I want?” Good, I thought. Tell me, please, because I’m lost.

“I meant I know what I’m doing,” Drew said, a thin smile on his lips. “I’m making you happy, the best way I know how. That’s my job, as your soon-to-be husband.” He leaned over the table and cupped my cheek. “Think of it as a solution to a problem.” He glanced at his watch on the same wrist. “I have to get back to work.”

“It’s Sunday,” I said dully.

“I know, but a client is thinking of dropping us and I have to play a round of golf—and let him win—to try to change his mind.” Drew dabbed his mouth with a napkin and took a pull from his water glass. “Your mother says you have a dress fitting tomorrow.”

“You talked to my mother?” Just when this conversation couldn’t get any stranger…

Drew grinned. “She calls me. Frequently. I don’t mind. As far as future mother-in-laws go, I hit the jackpot. She assures me you’ll look stunning your wedding dress, though I never doubted that, and just as lovely on Friday, at our party, which I’m very much looking forward to.” He looked at her untouched food, frowning. “I really do have to run. Could we get you a to-go box?”

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s only a few blocks. I’ll walk. You go.”

Drew looked relieved. He bent his tall form down to kiss my cheek. “It’s not ideal. But it works. Doesn’t it?”

I sat, staring at nothing, until the place began to fill up with the lunch crowd. I left my food, wholly untouched, and started the walk back to my place, my bungalow that Drew wanted to me to keep, but not as an investment property, oh no.

To have guests, from time to time.

Though the summer sun was already burning bright, I hugged my shoulders as I walked to my house and current houseguest who, unlike Drew, wasn’t going to be calm or reserved. I mentally prepared for the confrontation, knowing it was futile. I already felt wrung inside out.

Cory had showered and changed and was packing his study materials into a beat-up old red backpack when I came in.

“Oh my god, your test,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I forgot.”

“It’s okay. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” He zipped up the bag and looked at me—not with fiery anger as I expected, but only a kind of sad resignation. “How was it? Bad?”

“No,” I said bitterly. “It was…unexpected. He forgave me…in his own way.” And that’s all I’m going to say about that. I’d rather eat hot coals than tell him what Drew had proposed as a “solution” to our problem. Just the thought of it made my stomach churn.