“It’s a contested divorce,” he hissed. “If you were a real lawyer I’m sure I wouldn’t have to explain what the hell that term means, but since you’re not—”
“It means that you’re still legally married. It means that if you die before the papers go through, that your wife—which is what she is, will still be entitled to everything you ever owned. It means that you’re a LIAR! A f**king liar, who is apparently exempt from his own stupid and ineffectual rules!”
“I filed.” He gritted through his teeth. “She refused to sign, and there’s a lot of complicated shit that I’ll never feel like discussing, but we’ve been separated and out of touch for over six years. Six. Years.”
I shrugged and tried to put on my best poker face, ignoring the fact that my heart was skipping every other beat as he wiped my tears away with his thumb.
“I’ve never lied to you, Aubrey,” he said sternly. “You asked me before if I’d ever lied to you and that answer is still the same. I don’t talk about my life before Durham with anyone, but yes, I did once have a wife and she showed up to my office on her own. I didn’t call her, I never will, and I haven’t called her since I left New York. Our case is extremely complicated and I prefer not to think about it.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “You’re still wrong. You still neglected to tell me about her for six months. Six. Months!”
“At what point was I supposed to bring that shit up?” His face turned red. “In between f**king you over the phone? When I was begging your lying ass to meet me in person? When I was unknowingly helping you with your f**king homework?”
“How about before you f**ked me?” I hated that being around him pulled emotions out of me. I couldn’t pretend to act unaffected if I tried. “How about then?”
He clenched his jaw, but he didn’t say a word.
“That’s what I thought,” I said, knowing that I’d won this. “Now, I’m sure you and your lovely D-cup breasted date have a room reserved across the street, so if you don’t mind—”
“There’s nothing going on between me and my soon to be ex-wife,” he said harshly. “Nothing. And I do have a room reserved across the street. I’ve had the same one reserved for the past four nights with four different women, but I’ve been unable to f**k any of them because I can’t seem to stop thinking about my incompetent-ass-intern and how I only want to f**k her.”
Silence.
“Do you...” I shook my head. “Do you honestly think saying shit like that is a turn-on?”
“Yes...” He trailed his fingers underneath my dress, slightly brushing his thumb against the crotch of my soaked panties. “And apparently you do too...”
“Me being wet just means that I can’t control my body’s reaction to you. It doesn’t mean that I want to have sex with you. I hate you.”
“I’m pretty sure that you don’t.” He slipped his hand around my waist and pulled me close—making my breathing slow.
“Get your hands off me...”
“Say it more convincingly and I will.” He waited for my request, raising his eyebrow, but I couldn’t bring myself to say those words.
We stood staring at each other for several minutes, letting that raw, palpable tension build between us before I finally broke the silence.
“I think you should get back to your date...” My voice was a whisper. “You’ve said all you had to say so...What more could you possibly want from me?”
“In this moment?” He trailed his finger against my collarbone.
“In general...” I turned my cheek before he could kiss me. “I’m never sleeping with you again, I’ll be formally resigning by the end of the week, and I think we need to end our so-called friendship for good.”
“You mean that?” he whispered.
“Yes, I mean that.” I ignored the feel of his hand squeezing my ass. “I want to be friends with someone who’s interested in more than my pu**y.”
“I’m interested in your mouth, too.”
I had no response for that, and he must’ve sensed it because he tightened his grip on my waist.
“I know how hard it is for you to tell the truth,” he said softly, “so I need you to be completely honest when I ask you these next few questions. Can you do that?”
I nodded, breathlessly, and he leaned closer to my lips. “You don’t enjoy f**king me?”
“That’s not the issue.”
“That’s not the answer. Tell me.”
I ignored the loud beating in my chest. “I do enjoy it...”
“Are you really resigning?” He kissed me.
“No...I just—” I sucked in a breath as his hand cupped my right breast, as he squeezed it. Hard.
“You just what?”
“I want to be reassigned to another lawyer, and I don’t want to see you any more than I have to...”
He stared into my eyes for a long time, not saying a word as he finally let me go. “That’s how you truly feel?”
“Seeing as I’m the only one between us who actually feels anything, yes. Yes, that is how I really feel about you.”