It was Wednesday now, and once again she’d chickened out of staking out his place. She’d switched cars with Isabel all week, but she just couldn’t do it. Despite how nearly perfect the past few weeks with Alex had been, the thought of actually confirming what she feared most—that she wasn’t enough for him and never would be—terrified her.

The tears wouldn’t stop even as she lay in bed, chiding herself for not having just done it and gotten it over with. She was being her cowardly self once again, avoiding the truth because she still wasn’t sure she could actually go through with it. Could she really cut Alex out of her life once and for all? She’d even lied to Isabel and said she had parked up the street from Alex’s place for a while until she gave up waiting for him to get home.

She’d been this close to telling Isabel she didn’t need her car tomorrow—making an excuse for Alex once again that he was just busy and he’d call her soon enough. Then she remembered the night she saw him with Nadine at the party. Seeing him with someone else had been so brutal . She knew the only way she could force herself to walk away was to face the truth—confront him so she could see what he’d been up to and who he’d spent this whole week with while ignoring her—no matter how much it hurt.

She even considered praying that he would call her and explain himself, but she refused to pray about this. Praying was for bigger more important things like her dad’s health. But she did pray for strength because, terrified or not, tomorrow she would force herself to stake out his place, no matter how long she had to wait, and get the truth. This charade had gone on long enough, and she’d been absolutely right. Her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

If this was what she really feared—that he hadn’t changed and was still the immature ass**le playing games like in the past—she was really done this time. No more turning the other cheek. She owed it to herself.

Bringing her hands to her chest because the ache was unbearable, she turned her face to her pillow and cried herself to sleep.

Chapter 10

Alex

The sound and lights of a car parking out front caught Alex’s attention. He’d been so engrossed in his notes.

Looking down at the missed calls from Valerie, he felt his frustration mounting. There was no way he could take her call now, not with Gwyneth on the way over. Valerie knew him too well now. She’d catch on immediately that he was lying. It was why he’d avoided talking to her all week. She’d freak out on him, but there was no way around this.

He turned the phone off and put it down. With a deep breath, he decided to take a break from his notes to check if it was Gwyneth outside. It was later than he usually asked her to come over, but Alex had asked her to come over anyway. With all the tension that had been building, he needed her help tonight so he could finish this already, and, of course, she eagerly agreed.

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Just glancing out his dining room window, he could see it was her. She pulled her bag out of her trunk and started toward his door. Alex couldn’t help but smile. The girl was a sight for sore eyes in her tiny shorts and snug UCSD T-shirt. He opened the door, eyeing her from top to bottom with a smirk because he knew it was the reaction she was hoping for.

“Hey,” she said, smiling big.

Alex reached for her shoulder, knowing full well she’d be leaning in for a kiss. So he kissed her softly. On the forehead. “Thanks for coming,” he said, closing the door behind her as she walked in.

“Did I lie when I said you could call me anytime?” She turned to look at him, her lashes draping over her eyes in that seductive way she’d only started doing recently.

Pulling a notebook out of her bag, she dropped the bag on the sofa, and Alex motioned to the dining room table where he’d been sitting. “Have a seat.” She took a seat at the table next to where he’d been sitting. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “Soda, juice—”

“I’ll take a glass of wine if you have some.”

Alex made note of how Gwyneth didn’t look up from her notebook. Frowning, he took a deep breath, glad this was so close to being over. The last thing he needed was for Gwyneth to start getting the wrong idea. “I don’t actually, but I have beer.”

She looked up and scrunched her nose, shaking her head. “I’ll take water then.”

Just as he started toward his kitchen, the doorbell rang. It’d barely registered when another demanding knock followed. Alex and Gwyneth exchanged confused glances, and there was another knock. It was even more urgent than the first two.

In his haste to get to the door, he didn’t think to look out the dining room window, and his front door didn’t have a window. The second he opened the door, his stomach bottomed out. Alex stared into Valerie’s hurt eyes. She knew he wasn’t alone. The hurt in her eyes held a mixture of suffering and rage—the kind he’d seen many times before—only this time it was different. It was worse.

Fucking hell.

Swallowing hard, he gathered himself. “Valerie, sweetheart, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Of course not.” The break in her voice and the utter disgust in her tear-soaked eyes said it all. This was different from all the other times. So much worse. “New houseguest this week?”

Seeing her try to look inside, he closed the door behind him in vain, as if she didn’t already know Gwyneth was there with him. He started to explain and take her hand, but she jerked her hand away. “Go to hell, Alex! I’ve had enough of your lies!”




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