Page 146 of His Reckoning

Women don’t like being asked to leave, which is why I normally avoid the conversation entirely and end up at their place. And if I had to ask them to leave my hotel room, I never brought them home. I never lost sleep over it.

Not once … until now.

Jordan stops talking. “You’re not listening again.”

“I am.”

“You’re definitely not.”

I exhale slowly. “Reschedule the meeting with Klein.”

Jordan stares at me. “You’ve been waiting three weeks for that meeting.”

“I know.”

He studies me for a second, then nods slowly. “All right.”

When he leaves the office, the silence settles in again.

I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling.

There’s a question sitting in the back of my mind that I can’t seem to shake.

Why does it bother me now?

Kayla knew what this was. We never pretended it was anything else.

And yet the look on her face when she slipped out of the bed last night keeps replaying in my head.

A wave of something uncomfortable settles in the pit of my stomach

Guilt.

Followed immediately by something worse.

Shame.

I drag a hand down my face. The truth is simple.

For years, I’ve made sure no one stays long enough to see the nights.

No one close enough to ask questions or hear the things that still drag me out of sleep. But Kayla is already closer than anyone has been in a long time.

And if she keeps looking at me the way she did last night, eventually, she’s going to start asking questions.

Questions I’ve spent most of my life making sure no one asks.

* * *

By the time I leave the office, the sky over Manhattan has already started to darken. Traffic crawls through Midtown while I sit behind the wheel, barely paying attention to the road.

My phone lights up on the dashboard. Cole’s name flashing across the screen.

I consider letting it go to voicemail but decide to answer. “What?”

Cole snorts immediately. “Good to hear from you too.”

“I’m driving.”