That’s an understatement. Lincoln was always a genius with computers and opened his own cybersecurity firm. When the MADCAP virus went around five years ago, infiltrating personal computers and businesses alike, Lincoln’s firm was able to develop a patch, which they sold to hundreds of millions of people around the world, making him a billionaire. There was even speculation that he was the one to start the virus, but nothing ever came of it.
“I’m glad for you.” I turn my attention to his companion. “Asher.” I nod.
It’s the first time I’ve addressed him directly since he undressed me back in high school. For some reason, his eyes linger on parts of my body, like he’s remembering what I look like unclothed.
“Hey, you’re still fucking hot. If you ever wanna go for round two, let me know. I’m in.”
My face heats and I shift my feet.
“Don’t be a dick,” Ford fires back at him.
It’s all just too much, too soon. Seeing them all again. The hurt, the betrayal, the shame. The embarrassment heating up my face like an inferno. “You know, it’s getting late. I should get going. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Ford pushes a hand through his thick hair and frowns, understanding on his face as he looks to his friend with displeasure. “Yeah, okay. I’ll take you up to grab your bag.”
“See you guys later.” I give Lincoln and Asher a lame wave and head across the massive room toward the elevator, Ford accompanying me.
A buzzing sound comes from his pocket and he fishes his phone out of his sweatpants. “Shit, it’s my mom. I need to take this.”
“I can wait,” I say, though it’s the absolute last thing I want to do.
“Here, take this. Just wave it in front of the pad in the elevator, then press the button to my floor.” He passes me a shiny black card with a matte black emblem of the building on it.
“What will you do?” I ask.
“I’ll get another from security. Just bring it with you tomorrow.” His phone buzzes again and I can see that there’s concern on his face, so I don’t argue.
“All right. Thanks.”
He nods and answers his phone, stalking off down the long hallway, away from his friends.
I hit the button on the elevator and wait awkwardly while trying to act like I can’t hear Asher and Lincoln talking shit about the girl Garrin brought back last week. What a dick move it was. My eyes focus on the button, desperately wanting the light to go out so I can get out of here. Surely it shouldn’t take too long when there’s only five of them living in the building, three of whom are already on this floor.
The elevator dings and the doors part. Thankful to hightail it out of here, I step forward, only to be met with a pair of chilling dark eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Garrin sneers.
It takes me a second to fend off my surprise, but I gather my wits and step into the elevator. “You need a new line.”
I hit the button for the sixty-eighth floor and turn to face the doors, standing a good foot and a half away from him. Even so, the scent of his cologne mixed with his purely male scent wraps around me, the same one I’ve been searching out in magazine samples to smell again since I danced with him.
I risk a glance to my side to study his profile. He’s still wearing his suit from work, and the deep blue of the expensive fabric looks exquisite against his skin. His hair is tousled like he’s run his fingers through it many times today, and his suit jacket is open, tie loosened from around his neck.
In short, he looks like a wet dream come to life, and even though he’s been nothing but an asshole to me since I returned, the hum of sexual desire presses low in my belly for the first time in longer than I care to remember.
“Stop looking at me,” he snarls.
Jesus, this man.
I spin to face him, my laughter seconds away from slipping out. “What exactly is your problem?”
Garrin steps into me, giving me no choice but to retreat until my back is pressed against the elevator wall. He isn’t touching me, though he’s fractions of an inch from doing so. For some horrible reason, I want to give him an excuse to touch me. To put out this fire inside me that’s still burning for him. Quench the thirst I’ve had since high school. He can’t be the guy I think he is. I don’t fall for assholes.
When he just stands over me, saying nothing, I come back down to reality. Maybe I should schedule a call with my therapist back in Washington. I clearly have issues.
“My problem is you.” His warm breath fans over my face while he stares down at me. “You coming back is fucking everything up.”
“What does that mean? I’ve never done anything to you. How does my return fuck things up for you?” My voice grows louder and more demanding, which in turn makes his eyes more ominous and smoldering.
He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me with his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.
“What did I ever do to you?” I whisper, and I hate that it comes out like a plea. Like I’m weak and unable to fight back.
Still he doesn’t respond. Now I’m really irritated. It’s fine if he has a problem with me, but at least tell me what I did. I’m not buying that it has to do with the sex tape scandal and me working on Ford’s campaign.
The elevator dings and I glance up at the number.
Sixty-eight.
“Excuse me.” I motion for him to move, but he doesn’t, so I use my hands to push him back. They hit the hard wall of his chest and I bring them back like I just touched a hot iron. Thankfully he doesn’t fight me or stop me, stepping out of the way.
I don’t spare him a glance while I stalk out into Ford’s foyer.
I feel his eyes on me. Calculated and patient like a tiger ready to strike on its prey. I rush inside, leaning against the wall in the living room once I’m out of view and breathing a sigh of relief.
I squeeze my eyes shut, regaining my equilibrium.
Garrin wants to play some mind game and pretend I did him wrong? Fine. Let’s play.
8
Chapter Eight
Garrin
After a quick shower that felt more like a torture chamber until I stopped trying to imagine any other woman besides Isla to beat off to, I head down to the Titans’ Lounge, hoping to catch all the guys. Someone was obviously down there earlier, when I caught Isla coming up to Ford’s place. With all that sexual tension overflowing in the elevator, she’s lucky I didn’t follow her right into Ford’s condo because she might have loved my hands on her for a moment, but regrets would have spawned instantaneously.
She shouldn’t be wandering around our building unescorted.
It shouldn’t have felt like a knife in the gut when she pressed the button for Ford’s floor. Ford obviously falsely believes I want Isla—otherwise, why would he bring her here as payback for me stealing his date? Would he really fuck her on the regular just to screw with me?
My hands clench at my sides.
“Jesus,” I mutter and push my hands through my hair. Get a fucking grip, Stone.
When I step off the elevator, everyone’s there except for Ryker.
“Someone call Ryker and tell him to get his ass down here. We need to talk.” I stalk through the large room over to the bar.