Lola

I LET OUT a dejected sigh as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to my floor. Lunch with my girls had pumped me up for my impending talk with Grayson, but when I made it to his office and was informed by his assistant that he was out at meetings for the rest of the day, that burgeoning hope fell flat like a week-old balloon.

I just wanted to be alone, put on my “I hate everything” playlist — the one I typically designated for that time of the month — open a bottle of wine, and lie in a hot bath until parts of my body turned pruny. Unfortunately, it looked like I wasn’t going to get what I wanted, because the second I pushed through my front door, Dominic was on me in that overbearing, concerned, big-brother way.

“Shit, shorty. Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick waiting for you to get home. Christ, I’m so sorry.”

He pulled me into a hug so tight it was uncomfortable. “Dom,” I wheezed with my arms pinned to my sides. “Can’t… breathe….”

“Sorry.” He quickly let me go but kept hold of my upper arms as he pushed me back and studied my face with a frown marring his own. “You don’t look upset. Why don’t you look upset?”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on? Are you high right now?” I shot up on my tiptoes and peered into his eyes, looking for signs that he was under the influence of something.

“Will you stop?” Dom smacked my hand away from his face when I tried to pull his eyelids open to get a better look. “For fuck’s sake. I’m not high, Lo. I’m just worried about you.”

My face pinched in confusion as I rested back on my heels. “Why would I be upset?”

I watched, no less befuddled, as realization dawned across his face. “Fuck,” he hissed. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” I asked, my skin prickling with apprehension. “Don’t know what, Dominic?” I repeated at a near shout when he didn’t answer.

He let out a string of curses while pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here, look at this. A buddy of mine texted it to me about an hour ago.”

I snatched the phone from his hand, the breath stolen from my lungs by the picture on the screen. The edges of my vision began to grow fuzzy as a black curtain of pain and fury enveloped me. Then I exploded.

“That motherfucker!” I reared back, ready to send Dom’s cell phone flying, only to have him thwart my efforts by grabbing my wrist and taking the phone away from me. I needed to break something; that was the only possible thing that could make me feel better. “Give that back, I want to smash it.”

“You want to smash something, smash your own phone. I just got this, and I’m not letting you break it because you’re pissed.”

I huffed indignantly, dropped my purse onto the table by the front door, kicked off my heels, and stomped toward the kitchen. Once I had a full glass of wine in my hand, I began to pace, feeding that rage spiraling around inside of me by picturing the photo collage on my brother’s phone in my mind.

A photo collage of Grayson and Fiona hugging and laughing and holding each other’s hands while leaning in to each other like they were sharing a secret just between the two of them.

Assholes!

“Shorty—”

“Nothing between them my ass!” I shouted, interrupting my brother. “That lying sonofabitch! He looked me right in the eye and told me he didn’t have feelings for her! He even had his assistant lie to me. She told me he had afternoon meetings.”

“Well…,” he dragged out. “Maybe—”

I shoved a warning finger in my brother’s face. “Don’t you dare try and defend him! You thought the exact same as me when you saw that picture. That’s why you were so concerned about me. Don’t bother denying it.”

He held his hands up in acquiescence. “Okay, you’re right. I thought the same thing. Those pictures are pretty fucking damning.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “And so is the headline speculating Grayson Lockhart, America’s Favorite Bachelor, has thrown over his latest piece of ass for an old flame.”

“The article didn’t actually refer to you as ‘his latest piece of ass.’”

I shot Dominic a killing look and continued pacing. “It called me his latest fling. That’s not any better, Dom. Just because it wasn’t actually typed out doesn’t mean that’s not what people are thinking. Not only is he a lying, cheating bastard, but he’s made me look like an idiot!” I sucked back the entire contents of my glass and moved to refill it. I needed to fuel my anger, hold it tightly, or I ran the risk of being sucked down in a tidal wave of pain. And allowing myself to be hurt by another man in my life just wasn’t an option.

But God, it was hard not to succumb to the ache that was filling my chest. Those pictures… the way he was smiling at her. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever experienced, not just because of his betrayal but because of the humiliation he’d subjected me to.

“He’s an asshole, shorty,” Dominic said, placing his hands on my shoulders to stop my agitated pacing. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I feel so stupid,” I whispered, blinking furiously to fight back the tears that were clouding my vision.

Dom took the glass from my hand and placed it on the kitchen counter before wrapping me in his arms. I snuggled into his embrace, letting him take my weight since standing on my own had suddenly become too hard.

He ran a soothing hand over my head and said, “There’s nothing for you to feel stupid about. He’s the cheating bastard, little sis. He’s the one who should feel like an idiot, because no fucking way he’ll ever get anyone better than you.”

I sniffled and looked up at my big brother, his face wavy thanks to my watery eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him softly.

“Me too, shorty.” He tucked my hair behind my ear and grinned down at me. “Do you want me to go kick his ass? Because I’ll totally do that for you.”

I snorted out a laugh and batted at the lone tear that broke free and trailed down my cheek. “Nah. It’s a good suggestion, but I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail. I’ve been saving up for a pair of Jimmy Choos I saw online.”

“Okay. But you change your mind, you just let me know.”

“Thanks. I will.”

With his hands on my shoulders, Dom spun me around and gave me a gentle shove out of the kitchen. “You go get a shower and I’ll make us some dinner. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds perfect.” I started for my bedroom, thinking about how grateful I was to have my brother with me since, as it turned out, I didn’t want to be alone after all.

Grayson

I LET OUT a furious curse and threw my phone into the passenger seat as I navigated through the downtown traffic. Lola wasn’t answering her goddamned phone, and as I got closer to her building, the anxiety squeezing my chest only grew tighter.

During our lunch, Fiona had helped me plan out the perfect apology, and I was eager to track Lola down and make things right. When I’d gotten back to the office a half hour ago and my assistant informed me that Lola had come by looking for me, I’d thought things were finally starting to look up. That was until Caleb stopped by to show me the latest article written about me on the gossip sites.

“Has Grayson Lockhart, America’s Favorite Bachelor, thrown over his latest fling for an old flame?”

I had no clue who took those pictures of me and Fiona having lunch, but the suggestive angle and the damning headline made it look like something it wasn’t. I was going to find the fucker who printed that story and rip his goddamned head off. But first I had to get to Lola and tell her the truth before she blew everything out of proportion.

I slammed on the brakes and my car skidded to a halt on the rain-slick concrete outside of her apartment building. I left the car running and shoved the door open, startling the poor, unsuspecting valet as I took the stairs into the building two at a time.

“Mr. Lockhart,” Lola’s doorman sputtered in surprise when I pushed through the glass doors and headed straight for the elevator. “Good evening. Is Ms. Abbatelli expecting you?”

“She is, Maury,” I continued, not breaking stride as the lie slipped easily off my tongue.

“O-oh. Okay then,” he stuttered as I frantically jabbed at the Up button, willing the elevator to come. I jumped in as soon as the doors opened and pressed the button for her floor. My anxiety-riddled body refused to stop, even in the close confines of the lift, so I paced from side to side until the ding alerted me that I’d reached my destination.

I sprinted down the hall and began pounding on her front door like a madman until it finally opened. And the sight that greeted me from across the threshold made my blood run cold.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ground out, clenching my hands into fists so tight my fingernails cut into the skin of my palms. It was either that or tackle the motherfucker who’d just answered Lola’s door to the ground and beat him senseless.

The unknown man crossed his arms over his puffed-out chest and scowled. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here. I suggest you leave before I mess up that pretty face of yours.”

I clenched my jaw so tight a sharp pain shot through it. “You could try,” I hissed menacingly. I didn’t know who this guy was or what the fuck he was doing in Lola’s apartment, but I was hoping he’d make the first move so I could happily break every bone in his face. I’d been itching for a fight for days. I needed something, someone, to take out all the aggression and anger I’d had pent-up since Lola walked away from me.

“You’re a cocky fuck, aren’t you?” he chuckled humorlessly. “I can see why she was initially drawn to you.”

That comment gave me pause, but only for a moment. “Since you seem to know who I am, maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me who the hell you are and why you’re in my girlfriend’s apartment?”

“Girlfriend?” His head dropped back with a roar of laughter. “I don’t think so, buddy.”

I took a threatening step closer to him. “Listen, you son of a—”

“What’s going on?”

I jerked to a stop at the sound of Lola’s voice, and the both of us turned in the direction of her voice. At the sight of her in nothing but a thin, flimsy robe with her hair wet from a recent shower, I lost my mind.

“Motherfucker!” I growled and then lunged, burying my fist in the asshole’s face.

I had to hand it to the guy — he rebounded quickly, landing a jab to my stomach. I vaguely heard Lola yelling at us to stop through the blood pounding in my ears, as the unknown bastard and I continued to fight, taking each other down to the ground.

“Goddamn it!” I snarled in pain when he slammed his elbow into my ribs. I returned with a solid shot to his kidneys, temporarily gaining the upper hand so I could roll the asshole off me.

“You…” Punch. “Better…” Punch. “Not…” Punch. “Have fucking…” Punch. “Touched her!”

The sound of a deafening air horn forced us to stop fighting and cover our ears. When I looked up, Lola was standing there, fury painted across her face, with a goddamned air canister in her hand.

“What the fuck, Lola?” the guy gritted out as we both struggled to our feet. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

She shot him a murderous glare while answering, “Mom bought it for me when I went off to college. She thought it would deter rapists.”

Wait….

The guy put his fingers to his rapidly swelling cheekbone and winced. “Leave it to Mom to overreact.”

“Well it turned out to be pretty handy, didn’t it?” she snapped, putting her hands on her hips.

“Wait a second. Your mom…?” I interrupted, looking at the guy. He looked just as bad off as I felt, but as I studied him closer — beneath the swelling — I began to note the obvious similarities to him and Lola.

“This is my brother, asshole!” Lola spit. “Who the hell did you think he was?”

Well shit.