Page 87 of Tied Over

“You know why,” he husked out. “I had you back with me, all your focus on me, just like it’s always been, and you know you’re irresistible.”

“To you.”

“I dunno about that. If you weren’t gay, I think both Meredith and Angie would have taken you home, and Davis—”

“No, listen, Davis fuckin’ hates me and—”

“Davis wanted to take the ride bad.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

“You’re an ass.”

“True,” he agreed, his eyes glinting with mirth before he slowly grew serious. “Hayden hates me now.”

“He doesn’t, though, and I’m sure that’s the problem.”

He nodded. “He said I should have told him everything about you, and he’s right, and I apologized.”

“Well, that part’s good, that you said you were sorry.”

“I mean, I didn’t ruin his life,” he said with a shrug. “And I told him I would pay my half of whatever couldn’t be canceled for the wedding.”

“Weren’t you getting married there, at the house?”

“Well, yeah, but I mean like the catering and stuff like that.”

“I really don’t think they’re going to ask the poor deputy US marshal to pony up any cash. How bad would that look in the press?”

“Press?”

“Did he not tell you he was gonna run for a Senate seat in two years?”

The way he was staring at me, I was guessing not.

“Emily told me that was what the party tonight was for, and Davis confirmed it. So if you think about all of it logically, that means you and Hayden weren’t gonna be in Chicago long.”

“I guess not. He and his family have big plans.”

I studied his face. “Are you mad? I can usually tell.”

“Not mad, just…it feels like if I wasn’t smart enough to know what real love is supposed to feel like and be, that I would have been blindsided when he hit me with all this down the road.”

“You would have been. Yeah.”

“And because I’ve just gone along with everything, he probably thought I was submissive and pliable and would just do what he wanted.”

“Agreeable was the word Angie used.”

“Yeah. Agreeable.”

“What’s funny is you’re so not that guy.”

He met my gaze.

“I mean, we’ve had knock-down drag-out fights about Fig Newtons.”

“Because it’s not a cookie, Jed,” he was adamant, immediately picking up the discussion from the last time we’d dropped it. “A cookie is by definition small, flat, and made from flour and sugar.”

I chuckled because he was so serious. “Fig Newtons have all that in there.”