No, I need to face this—or just go to bed.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yes. Thanks, Ethan.” I hug him.
“Yes. Thanks, Ethan.” I hug him.
“You’ll work it out, Steele,” he murmurs against my
ear. He releases me and watches while I head into the
building.
“Laters,” he calls. I offer him a weak smile and a wa一ve
then press the button to call the elevator.
The elevator doors open, and I step into Christian’s
apartment. Taylor is not waiting, which is unusual. Opening
the double doors, I head toward the great room. Christian
is on the phone, pacing the room near the piano.
“She’s here,” he snaps. He turns to glare at me as he
switches off his phone. “Where the fuck ha一ve you been?”
he growls but doesn’t make a move toward me.
Holy crap, he’s angry with me? He’s the one that just
spent God knows how long with his loony ex-girlfriend,
and he’s angry with me?
“Ha一ve you been drinking?” he asks, appalled.
“A bit.” I didn’t think it was that obvious.
He gasps and runs his hand through his hair. “I told you
to come back here.” His voice is menacingly quiet. “It’s
now fifteen after ten. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I went for a drink or three with Ethan while you
attended to your ex,” I hiss at him. “I didn’t know how
long you were going to be . . . with her.”
He narrows his eyes and takes a few paces toward me
but stops.
“Why do you say it that like that?”
I shrug and stare down at my fingers.
“Ana, what’s wrong?” And for the first time, I hear
something other than anger in his voice. What? Fear?
I swallow, trying to work out what I want to say.
“Where’s Leila?” I ask looking up at him.
“In a psychiatric hospital in Fremont,” he says, and his
face is scrutinizing mine. “Ana, what is it?” He moves
toward me until he’s standing right in front of me. “What’s
wrong?” he breathes.
I shake my head. “I’m no good for you.”
“What?” he breathes, his eyes widening in alarm. “Why
do you think that? How can you possibly think that?”
“I can’t be everything you need.”
“I can’t be everything you ne
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