Bad Girl Lessons by Seraphina Donavan, Wicked Muse Page B

it.”
    Jackson had no appropriate response to that, so he simply nodded and headed for Evie’s apartment. He hoped he could convince her to go dancing with him again, or maybe just turn on some music and dance naked at home. That would get them in less trouble with her father.
    When he arrived, Jackson knew instantly that something was wrong. Evie let him in, but her expression was guarded. “Is there something wrong?”
    “No, nothing is wrong,” she said, as she moved back into the kitchen and continued putting away her cookware. “Just trying to get things organized a bit. How was your meeting?”
    “What meeting?”
    “The one that you tried to be so secretive about and failed miserably.”
    If he told her, she’d be angry and embarrassed. “It was nothing important. Just business.”
    She whirled on him then, “You don’t have a job. How can it be a business meeting if you are unemployed?”
    “I have investments! I own property! And I’m retired,” he shouted back. “Retired from a very lucrative athletic career!”
    “You know what. I don’t care who you were with or what you were doing! This...this thing between us, it’s just fun and games to you. I let myself believe for half a second that it might be more than that and it was stupid. Once again, I was stupid. So just forget it. Go home to your rented bachelor pad on the lake and invite over whatever two dollar whore you were with this afternoon and have her spend the night with you. I have actual grown up shit to do.”
    Had he not been chomping at the bit for the last six months, questioning his own usefulness in life, it probably wouldn’t have bothered him. If he hadn’t been wound tight over her for more than half of his life, he might have been able to see the humor in the fact that she thought he was cheating on her when he’d been getting a lecture from her concerned father. But those things weren’t coming to mind. The only thing Jackson could see in that moment was red. Furious with himself and with her, he threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell ever. I’m out of here.”
    “Yeah, you’re good at that. There’s never been a woman you couldn’t walk away from.”
    For a split second, when he paused, Evie thought maybe she’d pushed him too far. But he simply cursed under his breath and kept walking. When he left, when the small apartment felt empty and she felt completely hollow inside, she sat down in the middle of her tiny kitchen, on the ugly beige linoleum, and cried.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
    The pounding on her apartment door woke Evie. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, she grimaced. It was only six in the morning. She had spent the better part of the evening and long hours into the night unpacking and trying to make her apartment at least somewhat livable. She’d wanted to text Jackson an apology, but it seemed cowardly. She knew she’d picked the fight with him out of nothing more than panic. It scared her to need him so much. Thinking of Reed’s request that she be careful of Jackson’s feelings, guilt gnawed at her a bit for that but she brushed it aside.
    Stumbling through the apartment, Evie struggled to get her robe on. When she reached the door, she hastily tied it before unlocking the door. Very few people knew where she was. Her dad and Jackson had the address. She had assumed, or more accurately hoped, that it would be Jackson on the other side of the door, but when she saw Trevor standing there, her heart sank. She should have asked before opening the door, she thought. He reeked of alcohol and he was wearing the same clothes he’d had on the day before. His hair was standing on end and several days worth of beard covered his jaw. Some men could rock that look, but Trevor was not one of them.
    “You should go, Trevor. We have nothing to say to one another.”
    He bared his teeth at her in a growl. “You went to the fucking cops? Are you crazy? My own